And the Wicked Shall Burn
by Quiet thief
Summary: Malachi has returned, but the dark deity in the cornfields will not let him forget his previous crimes. Cyrus and his loyal pup are ready to fight as the times draws near for the ultimate demonic WAR!
1. Default Chapter

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And the Wicked Shall Burn 

Written By: Quiet Thief

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The Almighty Questions

If one were to use only the first five leaders of the Children of the Corn, what type of story would one get? In fact, what type of plot would one get? And if this person were able to achieve the desired plot and genre how many people would actually read and review?

Well, my dear readers, I have actual answers to the ridiculous questions that I have placed before you. Behold, the main question that I long to answer is, Who is the greatest leader of them all? 

Now, before you all decide to swarm my review box with statements claiming that your favorite should win (Meagan-bird), please understand that I have been through great lengths attempting to mold the characters into what (I feel) is their truest potential, something that the movies could not demonstrate well enough for all of us die-hard fans. Also, I have tried to gather as much information as I could, detailing their evil nature, once again, to the best of my human abilities. This would be a delicious plot for a screenwriter, but I suppose that a fanfiction would be just as good too. Think about it; each leader going throat-to-throat in order to appease He Who Walks Behind the Rows and win total domination over the children of Gatlin. And for such a delicious plot, one would think it terribly wrong if a bit of history, myth, and legend were not added to create some sort of bizarre, gore-filled delight! 

Is this some sick and twisted American Idol thing? Will the few, less liked leaders be given the boot while the remaining ones receive credit, glory and fame? Hell NO! I plan on giving each character the same amount of work, because the flames would be unending, leaving me to burn for all eternity. That would greatly hurt my self-esteem, pride, and willingness to continue further on this site! Plus, I would be in total amazement if one of the former leaders were actually reading this and decided to find me and tie me up to a corn crucifix, because I rudely enough dropped them without another thought. 

What about your other works in progress? Those will be finished all in good time. Remember that patience is an honorable virtue and one that will last a lifetime. 

How much gore will be involved and will you try to create a history for the leaders? Gore will be a plus, though I'm also going to infer that violence has or will happen. The usage of foreshadowing should be enough, but then again my imagination may judge that differently. Also, I will attempt to create a history believable for you, as Meagan did in _Isaac's Gatlin_ and _Baby_, only mine will somewhat differ from her perspective in the idea that Isaac was adopted. If I leak anymore info, then the surprise and suspense will be lost!

Finally, if I wanted to be a character in your story would you let me and what would be the requirements? Of course if you wanted to be in my story I would let you. Again, this would mean that you have given me direct permission to either keep you alive or kill you or give you some sort of otherworldly power. That choice is not yours. Sorry, but that would direct violation of the plot line. If I feel that your character is to be…well, killed, then I will do it; but, please, don't be angry, I'll give you an honorable death and I'll try to let the leader you like kill you off. Okay? As for the requirements of your character

Name is highly important, especially a last name. (I will not have you in my story without this!) Age (preferable under the AGE OF FAVOR) Sex (I mean male or female! Pervert) Hair color (No flaming pink or Hot Red! You would be dead on the spot if Gatlin were a real place. It's just sacrilegious) Eye color (Again normal eye color; please, nothing like Village of the Damned) Height Weight Personality (Be creative! No Mary-Sue types! Flawed characters are great and would increase the interest of you the reader!) 

Where is the disclaimer? Here! Right here! I do not own the songs incorporated, references to the occult or Japanese manga, the leaders, Gatlin, quotes, the Children of the Corn Bible, the Bible, and He Who Walks Behind the Rows. I do own the poetry and the beginning quote and the plot, since no one thought it possible that perhaps that this could be done. 

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Other Rules and Regulations and ETC…

You, as the readers, are allowed to cheer on your favorite leader and allowed to give me any suggestions at all. NO FLAMES! I cannot stress that enough! The rating for the meantime will be PG-13, but mind you that this will eventually be bumped to the R section, so if you want to see if I have updated and is not on the immediate page, than please click on All Ratings or R. 

I only hope that you enjoy the story; may it will entertain you, thrill you, and allow you to view this occult in a new light!

Sincerely yours, 

Author: Quiet Thief 


	2. Chapter One

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"If you see death as the only way to love me, than perhaps it would be best that we part. For how can I love death, when it only sees me as an object of obsession?" 

Quiet thief

The dirt was moist from the early rains and eagerly ready to produce the newest crops of the season. Slowly, the girl bent down and rubbed the clay earth in her long, slender fingers; she smirked and looked deep into the fields that had yet to produce any substance. "The time is nearly here, boys" she whispered. "You just have to wait a while longer." Her white/blonde hair fell into her light blue eyes that looked directly into the fields where a few extra sprouts had yet to germinate. "Just wait around a little while." The wind pushed its way out of the fields, whipping itself around the deep green leaves and strong stalks as though forcing the girl to recognize its presence. She turned on her heel and headed towards the broken down town that once held a preeminent and prestigious life; but now, it was run by field mice and large rats, spiders lurking around every corner. Ahead of her, she saw a dark haired girl running at full speed towards her. The girl was much younger and speedier than the white/blonde haired girl, but she held no control over the power that lay within the fields; at any point and time she could be killed, so she watched herself when in the presence of her superior. Breathing rapidly, the dark-haired girl stopped the reported to her master that she was able to contact the last missing piece. "So, he has been hidden from us? Inside a warehouse, _near_ his place of residence? Hmm…no wonder we had a hard time locating his whereabouts. Good job, Jael. Perhaps now we can proceed with the plans to bring them back. After all, He has been waiting for this for a long time." The dark haired girl lowered her eyes and waited to be dismissed. "Now we shall go and talk to the Elders, and see what can be done about speeding up this unsteady process. Come Jael, your work is not over yet." With a snap of her fingers, she and her subordinate left, vanishing into a strange mist that covered only them, taking the two to a place where many wish never to go. 

The old dungeon smelled of decaying and burnt bodies. The younger girl covered her nose and mouth, but the appalling smell was too powerful; she gagged a bit and felt her stomach boil and move uneasily. The white/blonde haired girl tugged her along, dragging her deeper and deeper into the darkness where the sound of chanting could be heard. "Come on," she hissed to the young girl, "They cannot be kept waiting." Jael felt the bile reaching up to the back of her throat and the smell of the dungeon was only worsening as they moved downward. The chanting became louder and louder, soon a call and response echoed through the stone building. Jael clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes, fearing that if she uttered a single peep, something vile and rather disgusting would appear. Her authoritative figure stopped and looked down at Jael, who appeared on the verge of passing out from the ungodly fumes that surrounded them both. "If you are not up to the challenge then I will find a replacement. And you will lose more than your lunch. Is that clear?" Jael nodded slightly and moved faster, knowing that others before her were destroyed for less. She pushed her dark hair back and heard the white/blonde haired girl call out to the chanters in a distant unknown language. The chanters continued but the leader called back, beckoning for them to come forward and join the call and response. The white/blonde haired girl moved forward and spoke well of him in the strange tongue –"Argi tema tu cov ritga allu tisi moutrag. To corve mie herta tu canz tomi a grota te morte" –and waited for a response from the hooded leader. The figure simply replied with a "Hn". Jael looked deep into the finally cavern where the chanters stood and breathed deeply; the smell did not permeate the place of unnatural evil. The green fire in the middle of the floor danced and swayed with the rhythm of the chanters, casting its light onto the walls but with no shadows to accompany it. Jael pulled back and hid behind her master, hoping that if she stayed out of the way, she would not be cast into the small pit that held the fire back. The hood figure spoke and again, its voice harsh and scratchy; however, Jael's master simply answered back. "Te morte retaviti osida a lemat regaro. Olord tela sumplity wenderigo feltas to wert tia polita tuko, deranta te a cuorsa." ****

The figure turned to face the girl that had spoken and uttered another "Hn". Its deep brown colored hood covered the face in a complete shroud of darkness. Jael attempted to flee, but her master held her arm tightly. The figure moved the white/blonde haired girl away from the dark haired girl and spoke in English. "Tell your master that when the moon rises upon a heap of red ash and the fair child walks out of the fields with the blood of her ancestor, then will the fallen rise once more. She may only be allowed to have you answer, for you hold something that she needs. Something that will protect you from the disposal which she hath dealt to others." He lightly touched her cheek and laughed when she pulled back. "You are strong, but not that strong. Tell them when they rise that they need more faith then what they had before. Tell them that they need to be ready for any test. And finally, tell them that this will prove their worth to their god, this shall be the final test for each of them; for whoever wins, will stand by His side. Tell them, child." He released her and the white/blonde haired girl smiled wickedly, casting down a look of hatred at her subordinate, who knew the final passage of the prophecy which would be fulfilled at a later date. "Tesmi Arigota," she said quietly, watching as the hooded figure answered his followers once more. The green fire leaped about wildly and danced insanely in the pit that held it back from the followers; the hooded figured laughed and howled as the white/blonde haired girl once more dragged Jael back into the world of the living, a place where the Elders dare not touch. "Quick," she hissed. "Get five of the red candles out of the abandoned church in Hemmingford and bring five of the black casted candlesticks. When they return so shall their light shine. And when they finally fail, so shall their flicker die." She moved in closely to her subordinate and whispered very carefully into her ear- "Be not proud that the Great Elder spoke to you. For pride is what killed them." She spoke these words softly, but with force so that the young girl would listen and heed her. "Now go and do your job!" She watched as Jael ran towards the other deserted town, frightened that perhaps her master held something up her sleeve that the Great Elder had not warned her about. 

The corn grabbed her hand and pulled the white/blonde haired girl and pulled her into the fields, near the place that was once a clearing. She stood there and recalled some of the old memories of Isaac when he had the gift of preaching, but after he came out of the coma he lost some of that magic. She laughed and waited for the force from within the fields to tell her of the day's events. A slight breeze tickled her cheek and she knew that He had come. Whispering inside her head, He told her that the preparations should conclude by the end of the night and that her other helpers should be able to retrieve the five keys within the next few days. She nodded and approved of what she was being told, knowing that her other four helpers would be more competent then Jael, but her hopes had not given up on her yet. Worse comes to worse, she would make a great sacrifice. Her name fluttered through the stalks, beckoning her to come in deeper but she knew better. She might have been 4056 years old, but she knew to remain wary and distant of the friendly feeling that He was giving her. She also knew that the lack of blood was not helping to make their relationship anymore trusting. "I sent her out…she'll be back soon and if she's not then I'll find another who will be more productive and more pleasing." She waited and listened as the wind continued to talk to her. "Te muto ali seteria cuni wanditer. Mio tera sumi cantra telia setre. No, equi seta nomari te suti cellma a ti oti set nu mi wend amit. Cel tulu ik." Whether or not He liked her answer that was what she spoke. The alliance between her and Him was intact as long as He held His end of the bargain; and truth be told, even with an alliance between her world and His, she still did not trust one who killed His own for the pursuit of pleasure. She remembered dealing with others like Him, and how they wished to control her and the powers that only she held; she only had to look at the soul with her pale blue eyes and see what really lay inside the mortal body. She left quickly, not caring whether He wished she to stay or go; the only possession she prided herself on having was the will to chose. She may have chosen to set up an alliance with the untamed deity, but she also chose to remain uncontrolled. The stalks bent out of her way, creating an easy path for her to follow. Her long flowing black sorceress skirt lightly hit the dust and dirt, while her long-sleeved gypsy shirt causally covered her hands. The tips of her fingers touched the leaves and broke stalks that remained in her way. Her eyes scanned across the deserted town as she waited for Jael to return quickly; her patience was soon to reach an all-time high if she showed in the next five minutes. A task few passed. She watched as the town continued to disintegrate before her very eyes, leaving her to wonder if maybe this was a joke; a small town like this would have been easy pickings for her, but He Who Walks Behind the Rows saw what He called "potential real-estate". Perhaps it was because the last people to actually live here were the first Children not to kill themselves and keep most of the buildings occupied and unassuming. Isaac Chroner was the last to use the town, but nothing came out of it, with the exception of Samuel who was not ready to claim his right as a leader; most likely he would be killed the moment he started talking. After all, this was the usual routine of all the leaders. They began to think and immediately were killed. She moved quickly, hardly letting her feet touch the floor; she floated. That was all, she floated into a dead town, where the stench of decay still remained. 

Jael returned and found her master wandering through the town, mumbling to herself about the endless screams. Apparently, the town was not used to another force intruding upon its history; she watched as the white/blonde haired girl grabbed her hair as the sounds from the dead came at her from all sides. "Master, what is wrong?" She moved away and dodged as her master thrashed around as the earth cried out to her. "Stop!" she heard her scream. "Stop! Earth! Stop the screaming! Stop the cries, stop the screams! I know! I know it all! Stop!" Blinking wildly she saw only Jael at her side, no corpses ambushing her from all sides, ready to tear her limb from limb. It was not the images, but the sounds that reached her delicate ears. Something within the tone and volume, something hidden deep with the screams; a message was waiting to be revealed. She stood and looked at her follower, who had retrieved the candles and the candlesticks, smiled and took them from her with force. _A master is to never show weakness_, she thought to herself. _That will be the last time I give her the pleasure of watching me wither before her very eyes. _She moved quickly and headed back towards the abandoned housing that Isaac once used for his own purposes and placed them directly on top of the mantle, underneath the crude crucifix. She turned quickly, startling her subordinate, and gave her quick instructions. "When the moon rises upon a heap of red ash and the fair child walks out of the fields with the blood of her ancestor, then will the fallen rise once more. Then will the red candles of their vitality, their joy of being reborn, and their undying passion to rule once more. Watch them Jael and make sure that when their flames are lit that they are not stifled by revile forces." Suddenly, she lifted her head up and laughed, her call carrying out to all. "First," she said smirking "I will return to my own dimension and rid the pest who wanted to destroy my immortal soul. Stupid girl. Oh well, she's probably dead after leaving her to my precious pets. Arachnids are so obedient." The threat was clear and Jael nodded, her gaze already on the five objects at hand. "Good girl, Jael, I know that somehow I can trust you to do these important things. Enjoy yourself, dark haired servant and remember as soon as those candles are lit, let nothing happen to them. Or else, it will be more than just your head that I will be wanting from you. And I'm not the only one that you will have angered through your stupidity." She pointed outside, toward the fields that swayed to the threat with passion. "He will be watching you as well." She smiled and turned her back on her follower. "Good bye, Jael. Don't get to bored." Without another word, she vanished into the mist, leaving Jael to guard the candles until they each were lit by the leaders themselves. She wished that they would hurry for her stomach needed to be filled with food. Even a demon of low position needed to feed their daily amount of blood; with the town empty and the others still searching for the Lost Pages, boredom would soon ensue and with a slim chance, take over her need for food. 

The trees covered the landscape, with the exception of the small clearing in the middle of the private grounds. Only there could the sun shine its eternal light and allow the few woodland creatures the joy of warming themselves in the vast glow. Some deer gradually stepped out of the dark forest and entered nimbly into the light, wishing to eat the sweet tasting grass that only grew with the sun's touch; a small quail joined glancing around nervously, watching to see if any predators were on the loose and ready to feed upon her tender body. The bird gathered at the feet of the deer and carefully settled herself down, so her petit body could gather some warmth. She would have had her children gather around her, just as the little fawn gathered around his mother, but her children were not destined to do so. Fate snatched them away from her before she had any time to enjoy their company. Alone, she sat and watched as the lucky mother licked her child's head. And for a brief moment, time stood still and peace swept over the clearing. Again, the fawn leaned into his mother, allowing her to lick him clean and ready him for the day's events. The quail continued to watch the interior of the forest, where unseen dangers with slits for eyes and large black tongues awaited. Long, thin, and prickly legs were set to spring and grab the prey from the darkness, warm saliva ready to burn the flesh away from bones, thin needle-like teeth ready to tear and rip limbs and appendages apart. Apparently, these beings had been chasing an unusual prey, which was foreign to the ways of the intelligent and swift-footed deer. The fleeing two-footed creature was caught by its long garment, which had been torn in several places. Falling to its face, the new creature cried out loud in the language that the female deity from the woods spoke. The quail rested her head and remembered how the poor thing sank to its knees as the fatal blow was dealt; the head was cleaning taken from the body and rolled a few feet away. She nestled in deeper, letting the clean, green grass provide a soft cushion; the unusual creature belonged to a group of villagers from the next town, something called a girl. Normally, when a "girl" or "boy" passed into the forest, they worked as slave to the female deity that enchanted the forest with her wistful ways. Her every whim had to be obeyed by these souls, who eventually never saw the light of day again. A few deer had seen some of these children being fed to the Silksters, the name given to the fearful creatures that hid well in the dark tree tops; the only explanation was that the "girl" escaped and therefore had to be eliminated immediately. Since the quail could feel sorrow, she let the sun warm her body and take away those feelings. No creature could shed tears for the killed yet no creature could stand watching the blood flow so numerously within the forest. Quickly, she saw the fawn dropped to its knees as the white silk bound up its feet. His mother could do nothing but run, as the fawn was dragged along the ground, its body being torn by the twigs, rocks, and thorny ground bushes. The quail sat up and ran, watching as the other deer left her behind; the sounds of delicate bones breaking echoed throughout the lands. Yet, it was not the neck of the poor fawn for he screamed loudly, allowing his mother to turn around once more before leaping away. However, the ominous hissing sounds held a higher volume. The fawn continued to scream and its blood ran into the clearing, making the last piece of paradise a sinful place. 

Admatha watched, pleased with the hunting skills her pets demonstrated. The deer squirmed still, though its jugular vein was open wide; her pets hissed and snapped at each other, trying to defend its spot at the kill. Their long, hairy legs worked around the carcass attempting to get out the best meat available. Saliva splattered against the flesh dissolving it immediately, the burning sensation no longer a concern to the dead fawn. The web was easily pulled away, gathered and rolled into a large ball, used to build a new nest for their children. The alpha male snapped at his subordinate, making him move away from the stomach area, the meatiest portion of the body. His teeth ripped at the flesh as he devoured the tastiest morsel all for himself. His female partner looked on, already showing the signs of pregnancy. She held back and snapped at those who came near her, biting the soft underbellies of her pack mates. She growled and hissed at Admatha and at the alpha male when he made room for her to go and eat. The other Silksters waited patiently, the younger ones unaware of the hazard of angering the female. She spit and slowly crawled over to the kill and ate, hissing out loud, cautioning every being around her that she would strike whether or not provoked. She bit and chewed tentatively on the open wound, her saliva coursing down to the dirt floor. With the newborn generation inside her, she needed all the food she could get, before they decided to turn on her. There were no guarantees that her children would even need a mother or that the mother would even want the children. Life was nothing more than survival of the fittest. She watched Admatha, who had moved over towards the alpha male, petting one of his legs making him somehow produce a cat-like purr. "Good pet," she cooed. "Good, good pet." She pushed back her white/blonde hair and smirked as the alpha female finished her course quickly, still watching her with intent to either strike or step back and give her a warning snarl. However, Admatha continued to pet the large arachnid grinning confidently that the female would not dare strike her where she stood, for fear that she might retaliate with more fury than anything living could handle. That had more truth than not. So she move away, still hissing and snarling and snapping, but she remained careful that she did not entice her master. Admatha smiled showing off her white teeth and white jagged teeth, "Good, girl; very good, girl." 

A moan in the background told Admatha that the hunt of her enemy had gone well, apparently her pets took it upon themselves to leave her dying slowly, where everyone and everything could hear and offer no help at all. She turned and walked over to her latest dying revolutionary and smiled coldly. "Zoë, how pleasant it is to see again. Especially, during your hour need. I see that my pets played a little to roughly with you, but then again pets will be pets. So sorry dear." Zoë smiled and coughed up some blood, which spilled onto the ground. "Don't worry. I'll be back to finish you off. Life always triumphs over death." Zoë smirked and continued to cough up some more blood, wishing that somehow she could wipe it off but apparently one needs an arm to accomplish that. Her other lay limply at her side, the tendons torn and ripped into many places. She smirked at Admatha and slowly attempted to rise from the ground, her legs trying to swing into proper position underneath her body. Admatha chuckled as Zoë failed and lay on the ground out of breath and running out of time; moving in closely, she watched the dark haired girl subside in her breathing, her deep eyes closing. "Well, this has certainly pleased me. You have caused so much disruption and chaos, now it is my turn to repay you with that same courtesy." An arachnid subordinate moved in behind Admatha watching the exchange between his master and the nearly defeated enemy, watching to see if her death would be as fascinating as the last one. Admatha circled the dying the girl and chuckled once more, rubbing her hands together in order to create and build up her powers. Sparks flew from her hands, heat surrounding her body, and intensifying with each second. Zoë glanced up and grinned. "The next one will be won by me," she whispered, as she lost consciousness. "When an immortal dies," Admatha retorted. Fire burst from her hands engulfing each finger. "From ashes to ashes, dust to dust." The fire sprang from her hands and onto the body, encompassing it and hiding it from view. At first, it seemed unlikely that anything mortal or immortal could honestly survive. The flames grew higher and higher, smoke pouring from all over, and the faint smell of burning flesh was beginning to be emitted into the air. However, an immortal could not die by her hands alone; that was why she had enlisted the help of He Who Walks Behind the Rows and formed a strong alliance with Him and His followers. Apparently, through the years, He had acquired a technique that could end the life of almost any immortal; however, through His punishment requirements, he had no way of using the technique to get rid of those whom He hated. But Admatha could. And she took full advantage of His solitary state. 

Zoë's ashes lay on the ground and were being dispersed by the gentle wind, traveling past the Silksters that had finished devouring the little fawn. There was nothing left of that creature, even the bones were gone. She pulled back her white/blonde hair and laughed, knowing that it would be a while until Zoë returned again at another time, appropriately the more modern one. The alpha female Silkster moved in closely, somewhat touching Admatha with one of her legs. Her low hissing and growling frightened the younger ones; she moved towards the ashes, pushing Admatha roughly away. The alpha male moved closer too, saliva dripping down his fangs. "She'll be back…only to return to the next life and search me out. It is in her blood. She'll be back," she said reassuringly. In fact, she said that more to herself than to her pets and strained to continue the one way conversation. "The next time we meet will be the last one. 

Jael sat on in the old office type chair and sighed heavily; the waiting was getting to her and the need for some food was causing a greater desire than what was on her priority list. The candles sat on the mantle, looking rather ridiculous next to some child's artwork of what He Who Walks Behind the Rows looked liked. She sighed again and waited for some movement; a few of the old followers of Ezekiel Enright had been tracked down and she thought about taking one of them out of the picture. They were young enough to not make a fuss if she attacked and their blood would be sweet because no of them were exposed to alcohol or drugs. It would be satisfying to her delicate pallet just to pick one of them off. She ran her tongue over her pointed fangs and yawned. It was getting late and the moon was hidden behind some fog that rolled in unexpectedly. She would most likely not be seen if she decided to venture forth and hunt, but her master's warnings stayed with her. But her need was becoming to overwhelming; she wanted to defy her orders and at least kill off one of them. It was not like none of them had ever seen death before, but a death so soon might cause an unwanted reaction. So, she stayed deciding that the cons outweighed the pros. Normally, she would be in her world, taking the basic shape of an ordinary red fox or, if it was a special occasion, a white arctic fox. She liked the Japanese word for fox, being kitsune. It suited her well, being that she was a demon and liked taking her form as a fox; it reminded her of a character that a manga had pointed out; Kurama, the boy who was both a demon fox and human. However, tonight she wished to prowl around as a pure black panther, hunting on all fours, body close to the earth, and the sense of sight heightening as her prey came into view. She glanced out of the small window and watched a small girl walk by, immediately thinking that she could make a good late night snack, but she had to push those instincts away. Jael was not used to being bossed around, nor was she used to being a slave to an immortal being. She heard few nice things about Admatha, including the fact that she rewarded her servants royally. However, her reputation for killing those who were disobedient was right on the money. She was not the only girl that worked for her; her cousin, a demon reader, was killed because she spoke harshly against the idea of any alliance with He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Her head was cleanly taken from her body. No ifs, ands or buts about it. "I do not tolerate _suggestions_ of any kind. Is that clear?" Admatha had asked the dead body. Jael remembered to keep her mouth shut and her claws in check. She never really liked her cousin, but was shocked to see her murdered in front of her eyes. She was family, good family too. At least now she knew who and what she was dealing with. Admatha simply walked away, leaving her to clean up the mess and get a burial going. A quick one at that; after she buried the girl, she knew that she had to become a subservient to Admatha's every single whim and wish. She pulled a stray strain of dark hair back and tucked it behind her ear, watching the candles standing in the shadows, waiting patiently to be lit. A large boy walked on by and the desire to feed was once again upon her, but she continued to stay put and see this through. _I too damn hungry_, she thought to herself. _I just have to drink. A little sip of fresh, untainted blood would be great, but no. I'm stuck listening to a semi-deity like being like a slave. No drink until everything has been finished. _She stood up and wandered around the small room, looking at some of the old books that were left behind when Isaac Chroner died. A few gave instructions to the children, what was allowed and what was disapproved of. _Go ahead and take what you_. She spun around quickly and searched for an origin to the voice that spoke out of the darkness. _Take what you need, child. After all, I understand perfectly well that blood is vital to your existence, as it is to mine. Go and gather what you need and share with Me the spills and spoils of the hunt. I give you a sacrifice, a lamb leading himself to the slaughter. _Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a rather chubby kid walk in, announcing that he wanted no part in this, scared of dealing with a deity, an immortal being, and a demon. _This is all too easy_, she thought. _I know_, responded the voice. _GO and kill him. His blood will taste ever so sweet to you. And his screams will be even better. _And so she lunged at him, ripping through his delicate flesh, and drinking the sweet blood that flowed so readily. _Remember, save some for Me._


	3. Chapter Two

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Author's Note: All right, for those of you that read the requirements for having your own character in this story, probably noticed that www.fanfiction.net** erased my * sniff * beautiful _list _that I made with the requirements. So, I will apologize for their mistake! I'm sorry that this site does not allow my list to look like a list! **

Also, a quick thank you to my first reviewer OctoberFaded, I appreciate your kind words! 

And to Meagan-Bird: Thank you for resisting the temptation to squeal out Micah's name! Though if you feel the greatest need to do so later on, especially when the battling begins, then by all means RELEASE THE STRESS! I will use your character; however, I need an age, because that will place you within a certain category. That will be explained within the story during future chapters. 

Again Thank You all for the support. And for those who did not review, please do. Or else I'll send out Admatha with her Silksters to take care of you! Hn…don't think I won't.

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J 

"To corve mie herta tu canz tomi a grota te morte." 

Those words sounded too familiar to Ember Cobalt, as the wind spoke them quickly into her ear. The long flowing dark hair fell into her face, but she had not the energy to push it back. Something was wrong and she knew that by the dark clouds, that whatever was wrong would eventually show itself within a few days. Intuition was not always a pleasant gift; she learned that quickly as a child growing up, there were some things that she should have never seen. She kicked a small pebble and watched bounce off of the concrete sidewalk onto the driveway of Cody Storm, who fortunately was nowhere in sight. She lowered her deep hazel eyes and continued the long walk home, where there sat a table set for one. Her father tried to make it on time for dinner, but the hours his office gave him left him no options. She could not blame him for choosing work over a few hours with her, after all, soon she would be leaving for college, eating in a cafeteria or with friends, whichever she choose. And sooner or later, her father would have to get used to the idea that his little girl was no longer little and no longer willing to hang on to him. Sadly, there would soon be a time when standing on daddy's feet in order to dance would vanish from both views. She did not worry about that though, the ominous clouds above her basically told her to watch for something completely strange and unusually; she looked up and noticed Cody standing in front of her, his blonde hair and bright green eyes looking deeply into her soul. And she turned her heel and ran. Ran for fear that the puddle of blood beneath his feet would not touch her as it seeped from his shoes, onto the concrete, and intentionally sought after her. 

Her feet pounded rhythmically on the sidewalk, fear drowned out her five senses and all she wanted at that moment was to reach home and lock herself in her room. Something definitely was not right. She had seen blood. Dark and rich, something that a vampire might consider being very good, like an aged red wine from the finest reaches of France. Either that or something that a cosmetic company would want for a lipstick color. Her white colored door was in sight; however, her legs no longer felt the need to run. The dark clouds grew in color, shadowing everything within its path. Ember pushed her hair back and attempted to sprint towards her refuge, wanting so badly to be inside its white, pristine walls and comforting atmosphere. Her eyes scanned the vicinity of the neighborhood, watching as shadows darted in and out of trees and hedges, laughing sadistically at her. _God_, she thought. _Oh God, please let me reach home! Please! Not now! Not Cody! Please don't let Cody be the next one! Dear God, don't tell me that he is the next one! Don't take him away from me!_ Tears began to form, wanting to streak her face and show the world that another victim would soon be claimed by Death, whether or not she or the world liked it. _Please God, not Cody! Don't tell me! Don't make me stay up another night watching these people die! Please, make it go away! Make it all go away!_ Her hand reached the doorknob and she wrenched it open, feeling a burst of clean, crisp air hit her face, freezing the tear. The door closed quickly and she raced up the stairs, ready and willing to throw herself down on the bed and sob once again at another one lost. _Damn you, Cody_, she though bitterly. _Damn you! _Once reaching the top of the stairs, she turned left and headed into her room, her legs remembering the distance it took for her leap onto her bed, her tears remembering which pillows they needed to stain, and her words remembering what needed to be said. Outside, the clouds turned the sky to black and thunder roared across the sky, creating vibrations that ran up through the house. "Damn you!" she screamed. "Damn you to eternity!" Her sobs crescendo, meeting the volume of the thunder which soon produced lightening to accompany it. "Damn you to hell, Cody! Damn you for leaving me now! Right when I need you the most! Right when I needed her the most!" she sobbed. It sounded like her heart was breaking, there inside her room, alone where no one, not even her workaholic father, could comfort her. And outside the sky grew darker and darker, until everything fell into the chaos known as premonition and depression united as one hard drink; it was hard to swallow. 

Ember woke up, sweating pouring down off of her face and the taste of bile that leaped up unchallengingly to the back of her throat. Like a bullet, she shot up out of bed and raced towards the bathroom, where she vomited her tomato soup dinner that unmistakingly looked like the blood that had seeped out of Cody. She told herself that all it was just a horrible dream, but the red liquid in the toilet was too dark to be anything but blood. Leaning over, she threw up once more, before sliding down to the tile floor. 

Jael finished up the kill, licking her fingers that still held a bit of the delicacy within the skin. She smartly saved a bit of the blood in an old ceremonial cup so that He Who Walks Behind the Rows might "bless" her with another delicious kill. The boy had been too easy; a fat little lamb that stupidly led himself to the slaughter, just by defying his true heritage. Now and days, the weak had to be killed off quickly, because they had an annoying habit of getting in the way when things began to cook. She ran her tongue over her fangs once more, wanting to take in more, feeling the desire to feast upon more sweet "ambrosia". _Now give Me what I want_. She nodded and took the cup from the desk, walking it carefully to the door. It opened easily and she placed the cup on the ground. _Good girl, Jael. Your obedience has been noticed and soon I shall reward you with more. _She smirked before reentering what she now considered a "hole-in-the-wall" room; papers covered the desk and old leather bound books were piled up on the floor near the corner. Being a demon girl, curiosity got the best of her as she began to read the journals that were kept by Isaac. His penmanship was difficult to translate and most of the words were written in the language that Admatha spoke. _To corve mie herta tu ona tomi a grota te morte. Sep sisi tu kerta wenderi solfa tuya a morte et a grota sema temi a olord. _Some words made sense and were easy to translate, but the sentences themselves offered little aid. _Don't worry about that child. There is nothing that important in there. He wrote down what was needed elsewhere. These entries are nothing to Me and they should mean nothing to you. Just watch the candles, child. Just watch them in the night._ Jael smiled, pushing the back some papers, before deciding upon another paper. The words were easier to understand, being that they were in English. Mostly written by the hand of Isaac, these papers dictated the official requirements for ceremonial sacrifices, marriages, birthrights and christenings, death, holy days, etc…

__

Don't worry about that, Jael. Don't worry at all about those things. Leave them be. Leave them be forgotten. 

"I have a _real name_ you know. Call me by that! Call me by what it truly mine and mine alone. Call me what my mother called me! Do not insult me by using _her_ influence. _I_ _have a name. Use that._" She sprung out of the seat and growled loudly, her eyes becoming dog-like and her mannerisms more sleek and unnerving. "Don't you dare mock me. I am like You and You are like me. In a way, we both are one. And in that manner, I deserve and demand that You give _me _the respect that I deserve. No more, Jael. I am not Jael. I am Idbash, a demon of reasonable strength. You give me what I want, and I'll make sure that You get what You want. But don't insult me by using that name. Ever." Her eyes flashed as she sought Him out in the dark room. "Where are You? I know You are here, somewhere, hiding like always. Some deity You are." She scanned the room, searching for Him to be there with her; His powers still exceeded her own, but she still caught on to the fact that He still used simple tricks in order to fool His enemies and servants. _You are too slow. I'm over by the corner_, He whispered inside her consciousness. Quickly she turned, claws extended and ready to strike the figure behind her, who had the chutzpah to insult her by using the name she hated most. He knew that. However, some learn better through lessons. She reached out, ready to hear the ripping of clothes and exposed flesh. Her teeth glistened in the newly freed moonlight, allowing her eyes to see with clarity where and what she wanted to aim for. _Now I've got y—_she stopped. And quickly realized that her air had been cut off and the smell of warm fresh blood permeated her nose. Her blood permeated her nose. _What did I tell you, you are too slow. Just too slow for my powers._ She kicked at the air as she felt her body being lifted off of the ground. _Besides, you really belong to me instead of Admatha. _"You wish!" she hissed at the dark figure. "I belong to no one, including You." She felt the clawed hand at her throat squeeze tightly. "I-still-belong-to-no---one." Her breaths went in and out in gasps—"Kill-me. Go-on. Admatha-would-love-to-see-that." 

__

What can she do?

Idbash smiled and felt the grip loosen up. "Much more that what You think. Much, much more than what can be desired. In some way, she has more power than You. Kill me and deal with her." She dropped to the floor. "And Your weaknesses are already known to her." She had Him, however, that only made Him become angrier with her.

__

She would not dare kill Me. After all, I offered to her a gift that few have ever dared to own.

"You only own what you cannot use." She smirked and felt no pain after a while; apparently her demon side was finally taking full control, making somewhat immune to His games. She smirked and let the deity release her onto the ground. "There is no more trust in the world…how sad, especially when one, such as Yourself, needs to have the protection that she can offer." Idbash turned around and felt her blood trickle down her neck; apparently, He had taken the liberty to slice her forehead, hoping that perhaps she might remember her manners next time. "Like I said, 'I do not belong to You'." Walking over to the candles, she still felt Him near, trying to control His famous temper -–"Stupid girl"—while attempting to hide the information held within the books and journals. With a quick strike, He was able to push most of the papers into such a disorganized frenzy that Idbash found herself wondering what was really hidden within all of the text. Her eyes scanned across the floor, watching as papers vanished and books became destroyed in mid air. "What are you hiding?" she asked, laughing a little too openly. "What is it that You do not want her to see?" The papers moved carelessly towards the door, which opened automatically. _It is none of your concern. _"And yet, it is. After all, You have betrayed even the most loyal of Your subjects to whatever Your whim desired. This she knows and holds dear. After all, some alliances should not be made, if you get _my_ drift." 

__

I can stand and do this again

I can say it but where to being

I know that I'm caving in

Because I'm heavy, I'm heavy

So the wonder of you is gone

I'm tired and bloodied and good to be gone

I know that you did me wrong

'Cause I'm ready, I'm ready

As for the part

About having something more

Let's not pretend

That it's like it was before

And I wish that I could say 

That it's not because of you

But it's because of you

(Letters to Cleo…_Because of You_)

Ember felt the cold tile beneath her legs and attempted to rise up and walk out. However, her body felt so heavy that she could not, and her premonition was not helping at all. In her opinion, Cody was already dead and when dawn arrived she would begin to pick out a funeral garb and wait for that dreaded call. Pushing back her hair, she slid down further, moaned and waited for her father to arrive home; that is if he was planning on it. If he did come home, she would have to move and go back into bed. And if he did not come, she would feel even more horrible than she was feeling right now. Her premonition lingered in her head, which was worse than the bile in the back of her throat. It reminded her so much of when her mother died; she tried to stop it, however, it was a useless attempt. Death claimed her as soon as it appeared to Ember in the midnight dream and mocked her weakness. It knew that she had no way of stopping the clock. It even spoke to her. _To a wenderigo et anfint? A morte to sela a cuno ort a menternium. YITE! Se, teka dita sulmo teter!_


	4. Chapter Three

**Raven Queen hunted for Tabitha Katherine Lynch throughout the entire cafeteria; up and down, Raven tried spy upon her blonde-haired friend, however, the other waves of blonde-haired girls crushed Raven's hopes of finding her in under five minutes. The thirty-minute period to eat and socialize was not particularly interesting; however, Raven felt the need to at least be within Tabitha's presence. Something was amiss in school; something was not right in the atmosphere. It reminded her of what her ****Chicago**** cousin told her; an event that happened in a Catholic school, near her home. Something that had to do with an occult and the feeling of death surrounding it each and every day; a boy, a sick and twisted boy, manipulated the Word. And that feeling was surrounding her. Or, perhaps it was just the atmosphere that high school continually leaked out. **

**She prowled around the jocks and cheerleaders, pushed her way through the Debate Club, rounded the Math Club, twisted and turned her way around Drama Club, was hip-checked by Hockey Club, and was finally allowed to enter her little corner where the world no longer seemed to be so cruel and unruly. She sat down as one of the jocks decided to lay claim to new surrounding areas, pushing out the weaker social classes in order to expand –" His massive attempts at world domination. Could someone please come up with something a bit more _original? _At least in this God forsaken school!" – when Tabitha finally entered the scene sneering at the stupidity that was muscle. She pushed her blonde/red-highlighted hair out of her way, making sure that her blue eyes could analyze everything and everyone in sight. "See that? That is pure proof that humans came from apes…look at the way he acts! It's primitive, crude, and animalistic…the need for territory, the need to demonstrate masculinity, and the need to battle the weaker for anything leisurely and needed to the survival of the race—it is all there! Evolution and genetics. At least for the slower part of our species." She smirked and pulled out some cash. "At least they keep me in the money."**

**"Oh yes, stock in homework help will be on the rise in the next few years." Raven grinned back. Her shoulder length black hair was tucked behind her ears, allowing her eerie gray eyes to soak up the high school environment. In the corner of her eye, she noticed the latest hunter slinking through the crowd with ease and grace. "Great. Kyle." **

**Tabitha slowly turned and noticed Kyle Went, sighed and immediately tensed up. The little hairs on the back of her neck bristled, as she waited for him to appear and demonstrate his stupidity once more. "Oh look at what the dog brought in." She waited for the usual snide remark; however, he simply sat down and began to chatter, mostly about Ember's vanishing act during third period. "She just up and left in English class—looked so pale and nauseated. Something about _last night_; something about her dream; I think it is about another premonition. Man, she ain't gonna make it if this keeps up."**

**_"She is not going to make it…How about some grammar lessons, Kyle_._"_ Raven growled the last words, letting her eyes bore into his. "You have an education. Use it." Settling back into her rhythm, she waited for him to pounce back with a nasty remark, which would result with her a) breaking some important bone in his body b) ripping off an appendage c) snapping him like a twig d) slapping him upside the head or e) all of the above in any preferred order. Tabitha's eyes widen in anticipation, but her "good friend" senses kicked in. "Do this and you're out of here. As much as I want you to beat him into a bloody pulp, I also want you to stick around and help me with business." **

**Kyle moved back and began to explain Ember's predicament "Her condition is worsening. This we all know. However, I feel that it is because the people that she truly cares about are dying and for no apparent reason. In class she was muttering something about Cody Storm. However, it is in my opinion that she needs help." He moved in closer and whispered, "She ain't gonna live long with this. She should never have been given this sorta burden."**

**"Sorta? Sorta is not a word. Sort of is. However you find it necessary to piss me."**

**"Raven, now is not the time to worry about grammar."**

**"Kyle, don't make me hurt you."**

**"I thought that was last week's business. I recall you pounding my head into something that was made up of a hard substance."**

**Tabitha shook her head –"It was the brick wall!"-and waited for Kyle to finish pestering Raven, before she decided to reenact the scene again. Her eyes scanned the crowd of people and heard discussions from many fascinating topics and sighed. "Normalcy, I wonder what that is like?" **

**Kyle shrugged. "Go join in. They won't notice you unless they can see inside that façade. They might notice a bit of inhuman grace, that only a certain species could hold. A certain ability to shift from one place to the other. A talent for being completely silent when…" **

**Raven grabbed his throat and pulled him towards her. "Shut up! Or else you'll be in the same pot! We all know what we are… and it is not them! So, _shut up!_" She dropped him down, waited until the blue from his face vanished and wished that she really could have thrown him from the school roof. "_Stupid!_" She watched him slide away from, facing Tabitha, who was trying her best not to start laughing which failed miserably. **

**"You so had that one coming! I could just see Raven strangling you right here, in front of the whole school, though I doubt anyone would be interested--" **

**Idbash slowly stalked around the figure that was fuming with distain. Her slanted pupils allowed to her view Him more deeply and see that patience was getting on His nerves. He wanted them found and resurrected _now_, not in the days in took to prepare, just _now_. "Well, she has most likely killed off Zoë and fed those damn creatures before returning to report how long it would take to retrieve the final ingredient for the resurrection of the leaders. Raising the dead properly certain has not been the same since 968 BC. She'll need the Hand of Glory in order to perform Your wishes. And I'll bet she'll need you to locate the vessel of her late victim, the Life-giver." **

**_I'll give her the Hand of Glory, if that is what she needs to kill the Life-giver._**

**"No. She needs it to pinpoint the Life-giver's location. Where and when she is to return to this dimension is impossible without the Hand of Glory. It holds the power to give Admatha an exact address of where the Life-giver is before her power builds up to its full potential and she ends up dominating the playing field. And if that happens You'll have to wait to be released another 3000 years."**

**_Hn. _**

**"That should take care of everything. She spoke to the Great Elder and received some information that was apparently of great value."**

**_What did he say?_**

**"Remember. I do not speak the old language nor can I translate it. However, I could tell that from the way he was speaking that it sounded rather positive."**

**_You know the signs, don't you?_**

**"I know nothing. I'm simply here to listen to further instructions from Admatha. _Not_ from you." She cocked her head to one side and smirked, waiting to see the reaction that she would get from the almighty Corn deity. **

**_So, you do know something. I always catch liars. And you are not very good at it._**

**"What makes you think that I was intending to be good liar?"**

**_I think you want her and the Life-giver dead. I think you have your own needs to fulfill and you are just buying time until the right moment. Idbash, the demon of destruction— you hold an inner desire._** **_I think you want the power that Admatha holds and I think you want to kill the Life-giver so that your power may increase and the population can die with your every whim and whish, leaving Me with no followers or a leader. Instead you will banish Me into the pits of hell where I will have to deal with my paranoid brother. Is that it? _**

**"You still did not answer my question. What makes you think that I was intending to be good liar?**

**_Because I am a deity and I can see right through you._**

**"And now I see that You are lying as well. I guess we come from the same stock."**

**_Hn. No, we simply want the same thing. We want what we cannot have. You will never get the power that you desire and I will be able to kill any immortal. However, the champion will. And then I can get rid of you. _**

**"Hn. No, You would not dare. I know that in some way, You need me to stay. You know that a destruction demon would be wonderful to have in a back pocket. Especially one with an appetite to kill and destroy." She smirked menacingly at the shadowy figure, eyes illuminating in the sun-forbidden room. "You do realize that it is morning out there and the _Your_ followers are waiting for you to give them a sign-so, shoo! Give the people what they want."**

**_What people? They are not people; they are children. Mindless, obeying children. _**

**Tabitha looked over her shoulder and smirked as Raven threw another piece of chalk at the teacher's rather large back, aiming at the checkered center. It bounced off and clashed on the floor, causing such a disruption that the teacher had to turn around. With a finger pointed at the obvious suspect, he drilled her quickly with a resounding "OFFICE NOW!" **

**"I hate you," whispered Tabitha as she gathered her belongings. Turning towards the teacher she immediately stuck her tongue out. "Can't take a joke, can ya? Or is that because you get paid so little?" Slamming the door, she left, looking relatively pleased with herself; Kyle leaned in close and asked, "Why did you let her take the blame?"**

**Raven snorted out a reply. "Hello? Her boyfriend is picking her up. That's why she did not put up much of a fight." **

**With a sigh, Kyle returned back to his work. "Damn."**

**Idbash opened the curtain slightly and grimaced as the sun hit her directly in the face. "Fuck!" Covering her eyes, she scowled at the idea that she would have to go and retrieve Admatha from her home in the dimension portal and see if the Life-giver was assassinated properly, before the dispensing of the newly acquired vessel. She moved deeper into the room and wondered when He Who Walks Behind the Rows would return with an answer to her proposal. She wanted so desperately to be free from her rule and hold a higher position, maybe even given the chance to dispose of Admatha slowly and torturously. Idbash licked her tongue over to fangs and waited by the mantle, waiting and watching for at least the tallest one to ignite. It was rather boring to be locked up in a room with only candles to guard; there was no movement, no killing, and no entertainment to be found anywhere. She already read the following journals left behind by Isaac, Micah, and Ezekiel and learned nothing that would be of great use to her. Only the journals that contained the strange language seemed to be of any use, but the words which seemed to intertwine with Latin, French, and the Demon-subLatin made no sense; each word in each language was just repeating itself over and over again. The soft and hardbound books smelled older than they were; most likely they were gifts from the Underworld itself no doubt. Isaac wrote mostly about the Commandments that he had installed when in power, whereas Micah wrote down the accounts of how manipulation was the key to most successes. But it was the leader Ezekiel who wrote the history of why He Who Walks Behind the Rows came to be cast out onto the earth and rule such a small amount of land. It was a read that even Admatha would find to be very interesting. Pages and pages were written about the old ways, sacrificial prayers, and cleansing prayers. Every bit of history was documented well within the pages of a dark brown leather-bound journal. "Interesting plan. Very interesting. Would have made a great world; too bad that You just had to tick off your brother." She pulled back her dark hair and tucked it behind her fox-like ears, her padded feet silently walking over the wooded floor. It creaked and groaned a bit under her weight, shifting forward and backward. The light still crept in, intruding upon the whole "dark and dank" look, which irritated the fox demon greatly. Her fangs steadily grew inside her mouth as her anger rose and the light continued down a path. Her eyes adjusted to the intruder, the color changing to a lighter, almost golden, color. "Fuck!" she snarled, walked quickly towards the curtains. "I hate sunlight!" With the curtains drawn a little, she could see that a few of the followers were clearly discussing abandonment, annoyed that the coming leaders were taking their good old time in making their grandiose appearance. A boy, light haired, motioned towards the building, theatrically proclaiming that the "creature" inside was helping to delay in their coming. She growled loudly, but not loudly enough for the punks outside to hear. "Come and get me!" The curtains were tightly drawn, the light vanishing quickly. "Admatha, you had better get here and get here soon, or else a bloodbath will begin rather quickly. And it won't be for the welcoming ceremonies." **

**            The candlestick stood ready, even though to the trained demon eye it seemed as though the wax had already begun to melt.**

**Tabitha passed the office, praying that her escape would go unnoticed. Fortunately, it did. The office aids, mostly bored seniors, learned early on not to rat on Tabby Kat when she prowled off grounds. Their health coverage did not hold to unsuspecting accidents, mostly involving torn limbs. With eyes lowered, they continued going on about their business, filing papers and computing in important information about the rest of the student body. Easily, Tabitha made it to the parking lot where her 18 year-old boyfriend Michael waited. "So," he began excitedly, "What class are you missing now?" **

**"Does it really matter?" Tabitha grabbed the helmet and began to adjust the straps.**

**"Yeah, it would be cool if you ditched Math or English; ya know, just for me?" He looked at her with pleading eyes. "This way we can feel like the true Bonnie and ****Clyde****." **

**"Fine. I missed English."**

**"But you just finished English, Tabby Kat. I know, because I have fulfilled my public obligation as a boyfriend by memorizing your entire schedule." **

**Tabitha slipped the helmet on and began to climb on top of the cycle. "Call me Tabby Kat and die, Mikey." **

**Admatha gracefully and theatrically pointed out to her Silksters that the Life-giver was not dead yet; she had only passed another stage in the cycle. The pregnant female stood away from the group, hissing ferociously at everything that moved; her hairy legs moved themselves closer to her body, holding her balance. The Life-giver's ashes had already spread out to the farthest distance in the land, making Admatha wonder, if perhaps she had been too careless with the sacrifice. After all, an immortal could always return quickly to another body, even one already alive and kicking. Anything was possible and Admatha quickly realized that perhaps if she were too choose another host body, perhaps the next one would be the one that held the power to destroy He Who Walks Behind the Rows. The pregnant female hissed and snarled loudly, raising her massive body high above the young male's own body; her teeth clipped together, while her saliva dripped onto the floor, hissing as it ate up the surrounding dirt and vegetation. One of the younger Silksters had taken the liberty to test the female, who had begun to growl loudly and frantically, warning the younger one that her patience should not be tried. The deer carcass was shredded and devoured quickly, even the bones were left touched and broken. The younger Silkster pushed back one of the larger leg bones and continued to make his way towards the alpha female, slyly crawling towards her on his belly. He snapped a few times, his fangs gleaming. Admatha wondered if maybe she should put the female in isolation fro a while, but the alpha male Silkster slowly backed away with the others leaving the thought that perhaps getting near the female would be difficult. The young Silkster slowly circled the female, weaving and bobbing, ready for any strike from the opponent. The female watched through her numerous black eyes the moving target and quietly she hissed out her final warning. If the young arachnid did not follow her instructions, then he would be dead quickly.**

**Idbash moved quickly, pacing across the floor as she waited for Him to return. The books that he did not want her to see were gone, with the exception of a few that fell behind the desk. She picked these up and went through them quickly, discarding what she could not understand. But there, in the mist of readable materials, she saw it. A book, unlike the others. A book that was dressed in passion red leather and with no title on the cover. Looking around, Idbash knew that this book had to be special. It was locked and locked well. The metal safety net looked as though it had been casted from the pits of Hell; it was blacker than the candlesticks and cooler to the touch. "This might be important," she whispered, her voice immediately deepening. "This might be very important." Her pupils became slits and her legs grew increasingly muscular. The hair on her head turned a lighter shade of red and her fangs become increasingly sharper. "This sucks. I have to be in here and watch the candles. I knew I should have never agreed to this. I could still be back in the other world, hunting and killing, and escaping from all of those traps that the Spirit hunters make. I could be free." Pointed furry ears popped up and her body became smaller. "I wish I was home." There on the floor she stood; a red fox with amber colored eyes. "I wish I could be free from this entire contract; what self-respecting demon would want to waste their prime years waiting for the return of a few dead guys. They apparently were not the ones suited to perform the tasks needed. Chose another." She growled and felt her body acclimate to her warm, sleek fur. "Chose another. Take Samuel and make him stronger than the others. And learn from Your mistakes."**

**Admatha ran into her stone tower as she saw night approaching fast and the pale moon hanging over the already fearful forest; up in the attic lay all of her equipment. The moon was red looking, as though blush has been added to its own unique style and flare. Upstairs, in the secrecy and betrayal room, there lay the power to wake the dead from their endless slumber. There lay Vitera, Life Beyond Life. The vial, which would bring about a new chapter to the tale that, would never end. She picked it up and examined the contents; a prickly leg rested upon her shoulder and gave it a quick pat. "Yes," she hissed. "Now, we wait for the child to kill her own, and then we will be in business." **

**Ember lay in bed, wanting so badly to die. Everything in her body ached with pain and suffering. Pressure came from all sides, filling her head with undesirable and indescribable visions of death and mourning.          **

**Idbash was about to leave in her fox form and hunt out another rat in the almost-perfect system, when it happened. The candle from the far left lit. It stayed lit long enough for Idbash to realize that one of the undead was getting impatient with the process and was willing to break boundaries to get out. And suddenly, it went out. No left over smoke lifted up into the air and there was no smell of anything burning. No proof that what she saw was real; and yet, it was so very real. The flame was there, lighting up just a small amount from the room. And now it was gone. Her fox-like eyes watched the candlestick and noticed what the naked eyes could not. A tiny bit of melted wax that had begun to cascade over. **

**Curling up her tail next to her body, she sat and looked around her. Surely, this was a sign that one was already strong enough to defeat the others. Idbash placed a paw up to her chin and began to think out loud about whom would have the strength to accomplish such a feat. "Let's see," she began, "There is Isaac, the first one, but I don't think he would be willing to boast about his power increasing. Micah might; Lord knows he could use the ego boast after such an embarrassing show of leadership. Eli might have; he could be powerful enough. Josiah was the closest to He Who Walks Behind the Rows, so he might also have the power, and Ezekiel was the youngest but also the most strict. So, who would want to show their power now? Who would want to show the others that they have no chance?" Getting up from the floor, she walked towards the mantle and gracefully leaped up to give a closer inspection on the object in question. Her fox-like eyes peered through the darkness and saw that indeed there was a small piece of wax that had began to melt and slide down the body of the candle; she also noticed that the wall behind it was somewhat singed, as though the flame was too hot for it. The smell was clear, like rain. **

**"Strange. But then again, I'm in Gatlin. Something like this should not surprise me at all." **

**Ember slept the entire afternoon away, dreaming about her premonition. It was hard to think at school, especially since Cody was there, alive and well for the time being. Kyle was a sweetheart, making sure that she made it to the office okay and that the people in the office called the right house; he had asked her early what the problem was, but being who he was it did not take him long to realize to figure out the conclusion. The taxi came and she entered into it, not very sure about how her legs could walk at a time like this, but apparently they understood the necessity of sleep more than she did. **

**Her house was quiet and peaceful; the couch was too inviting for her. Her stuff was on the floor, scattered around, just as her body was on the couch. It took less than a second for her eyes to close and the blanket of darkness to shroud everything. The sound of wind chimes reached her ears, _clinking and clanking _their musical notes and beckoning the art of spirit harmony to enter her soul; little did it know that the girl could have no peace. Deep into slumber land, Ember watched as Cody's blood dripped down from his gut area onto the floor, his mouth open wide in horror. Not a sound could reach his lips. But what she did see was a boy, standing in the distance. The unrecognizable figure smirked slightly as Cody's knees began to lose their foundation. "See," he spoke softly, "You can not save them all. I won't allow you to rescue him. Just like I stopped you from saving your mother, the traitor!" The child-like voice deepened with anger and continued in an off screen fashion. "She got pregnant with you, Ember. A mistake that should have been aborted a long time ago." **

**Ember gasped for breath, her hands widely and frantically searching for God up above her to free her throat from what ever was crushing it. She felt her brain run haywire, screaming for her to receive oxygen now. "Help---me!" she choked out. "Help---me." **

**"Who would want to help you?" asked the same voice from her dream. "Who would want to help an illegitimate child, a child that should never have been born in the first place? Your father does not even want you around; so I'm helping him." **

**"He-l-p---me."**

**"No, I don't think I will." **

**"P-le-as-e."**

**"Hn. Absolutely not."**

**"Go-d!"**

**And harshly, he replied, "I said your Father does not care! Get it!" **

**She understood, especially when her eyes began to roll towards the back of her head. "God. Help-m-e!" **

**Admatha felt it. Somewhere, she knew that it was already happening. One of them was trying to free themselves from the boundaries of natural law and order. Even her male Silkster felt the tremor. It was happening, one of the dead leaders was not pleased with the slow progression and was attempting the impossible. "Seta tumo letira sanco!" she cried out. The male Silkster crawled away from her, heading towards the cold stone walls where there hid nocks and crannies of every kind; the tone of her voice frightened him up the wall where his brethren were nesting and watching. With black eyes, he watched her, pacing back and forth screaming out obscenities in her private language, and told the others that the master was not pleased with the outright rebellion against her work. Clicking his teeth, a warning ran through the pack and ended with pregnant female, who simply spurred it off as an idea that held no sensible solution. **

**Raven looked out the window and watched as Michael quietly led Tabitha away from the school grounds and onto public property. The mall was near, but not Tabitha's ideal place for ditching school. The hidden motorcycle was alive now, its engine roaring from a distance; Raven glanced at the clock and back towards the window, hoping that if they passed Ember's house that they might check up on her. **

**A hand touched her shoulder, bringing Raven back down to earth. Kyle watched as the teacher moved from the chalkboard over to his desk, waiting for the rest of his class to become occupied with what was on the board. The chalk dust was all over the ground creating small mountains of powered "snow", making anyone that focused on it, to dream of skiing down the ****Alps**** or ****Aspen****. "So, she left us to fend for ourselves?"**

**"No, she left to see if you would still be alive tomorrow."**

**"Are you trying to tell me something?"**

**Raven sighed heavily. "Lord, help me."**

**Ember's arms lay on her chest that had stopped moving a while ago. Her eyes showed nothing but the whites and her face was strangely a light colored blue. The presence stayed in the room, creating a feel of heaviness. "Okay. Now I'm bored. Killing her was fun, but the rest of the entertainment in this house holds little value. Her voice held a beautiful tone of fear." It slithered down and gently rested near the dead girl, who looked much more innocent in her new state than before. "I could always wake you up, dear little girl. However, I feel that plan would ruin my return to this dimension; I need to be back and rule, dear dead Ember but I know that you will try to stop me and the rest of the leaders. This is why you are dead. But, if you promise to leave me alone, I might be persuaded to return your soul back to your body. How about that? Just promise that you will not involve yourself." A piece of hair was pushed back by some unseen force. "Hmm. I will allow you to return for only two reasons. I'm sure to win and…" The voice paused as the eyes rolled back into place, "and I'm the cute one."**

**Idbash leaped down and ran over towards the door and clawed frantically. "This can not be happening. One cannot change the force of natural law. Whoever is doing this surely wants to kill the others and quickly." She reached out and clawed once more, yelping to be heard by anyone near the door. "Come on, someone. Answer the damn door. I need to speak to your deity. It is an emergency." **

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**_He's everything you want_**

**_He's everything you need_**

**_He's everything inside of you_**

**_That you wish you could be_**

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**_He says all the right things _**

**_At exactly the right time_**

**_But he means nothing to you_**

**_And you don't know why_**

**(Vertical Horizon, _Everything You Want_)**

**Raven waited and waited for the bell to ring, while Kyle continued on about how he felt the Ember's health was deteriorating. She brushed off his conversation, which became one-sided soon enough, and began to think about how much she wished her mother would just come to accept her for what she was. A part of her. **

**"Tu sema allitor comieter wenadi tumo sela solerta taaki mentoutor, shoupa!" chanted the hooded monks. Their heads were bowed and their were clasps together as though they were praying, But the lead monk paid little heed to their performance, feeling the same tremor race through their caverns and disrupt his entertainment time with his followers. He quickly motioned for one of the minor rookies to come to his side and explain what it was that he felt earlier. The boy described that the prophecy was not fulfilled yet, because a "fair child had not walked out of the fields yet with the blood of her ancestor" and therefore proves that it was still not time. The head monk sighed from underneath his cloaked and quickly snapped the boy's neck. "I only asked that you prove me right in saying that the tremor I felt was a sigh of impatience; I never asked you to treat me like a child and explained the prophecy. Well, at least your slack of insight was rewarded to the best of my ability." The snap of the neck was quick and painless and very quiet as to not to disturb the others at their work. "I wonder who would dare show such power as to light one of the candles on the mantle. I wonder who would want to show the competition immediate strength. That is not usually a smart move, but none the less it is intimidating." **

**She felt it right behind her. She felt the heat growing and allowing the light to truly shine through. Turning her heads back towards the mantle, she saw the candle and the dancing flame on top of it. "This is not right," she murmured, her tail swishing back and forth. "This is not right. Someone is definitely planning on wining early in the match before the others have a chance to escape." She scratched as the door, frantically. "I have to tell Admatha." **

**Deep down inside the caverns, past the lava pools and biting steam, there lay the center of a dungeon, full of inmates moaning for freedom or screaming from amidst the torture chamber. The stone walls were hot to the touch and the steam from the cool underground water hitting the lava found escape through the cracks and crevices in the walls. The inmates inside the dungeon were all shrouded in a cape of darkness, hiding their grotesque figures and scarred bodies from the many hours of tortures that they suffered through. A few immortal bats hung from the rafters, screeching out callings to another. Their leathery wings flapped and covered their upside-down bodies. It was here that the Elder priest decided to meet his confidant and question him about the unexpected signs of an already impatient leader. The Elder's dark cloak lightly touched the floor, sweeping up the dirt. He knew that the dungeon was famous for some of its prisoners, including the rotting corpses of one of the leaders, Micah Balding, and one of the main followers, Malachi Craig. Deeper and deeper into the place of moans and wails he walked, never once sneaking a peak at the other prisoners. If he did, he would have started to laugh and never cease at their sad and unfortunate stations; through small openings, the yellowed eyes peered out to look upon the ghostly visitor, before dropping their gaze towards the floor. The Elder monk walked faster as he felt another tremor moving quickly through the ground and through his entire solid figure. "This isn't right," he hissed, "No mortal could have that power; surely, He Who Walks Behind the Rows knows that this is not the correct procedure. This is not good at all; one has energy to kill the others before they are even released from their imprisonment." He moved swiftly, down the winding stairs that could cause horrific vertigo, and heard the echoes of his footsteps becoming increasing louder. "There it is again. Another tremor, only much more determined in destination. Et suma wendterigo selata hinua." **

**Near the floor level, the Elder heard the voice of his confidant beckoning him to come and join the rest of the group. "I know what you want," said the beast-like growl. "I always know what you want. You want to know which leader is causing the commotion; he is an arrogant little fool, priding himself that only he deserves to be free from the capture. I shall prove that one wrong. I like to prove people wrong," he half hissed and half-snarled. **

**Ember woke up quickly, once again gasping for breath. Something heavy was still by her side, but the oxygen, which she craved for, came in quickly. Her head was spinning out of control and her heart raced so fast that she thought that she might induce a heart attack. **

**"Don't be too alarmed. This was only your first of many warnings." **

**Raven moved and shuffled intensely while in her seat. For some reason she felt the strange urge to leap out of the classroom and head towards Ember's house, just to see that she was all right. Something uneasy tingled up and down her body, causing Goosebumps at every available opening. This uneasiness swept through each and every view and blood vessel and her heart was beating too fast for her own breath. The low and steady sound of heavy metal filled the void that surrounded her and the lyrics from Metallica easy slipped inside her already stormy head. **

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**_Now I lay me down to sleep_**

**_I pray the Lord my soul to keep_**

**_And if I die before I wake_**

**_I pray the Lord, my soul to take_**

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**_Hush little baby_**

**_Don't say a word_**

**_And never mind that noise_**

**_You heard_**

**_It's just the beasts_**

**_Inside your head_**

**_In your closest_**

**_In your head_**

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**_Exit Light_**

**_Enter Night_**

**_Take my hand_**

**_We're off to never, never land_**

**(Metallica, _Sandman_) **

**"Lord, let Ember be all right." **

**Michael dropped off Tabitha at the music store and went in search of decent parking for his cycle. Entering into the shop, Tabitha immediately noticed the guitar sitting on the back wall, where million of microscopic dust could fall with all the convenience in the world. "This would be perfect for her, absolutely perfect for her." She ran over and grabbed the instrument, strumming a few notes before realizing that the manager was looking down at her with gleaming eyes. **

**"Are ya gonna buy that or are you gonna get the hell outta here?"**

**Tabitha turned around and sneered back an answer. "I'm gonna play it all day long, just to annoy the fuck outta you. Then I'm gonna stay here the entire night and play every single Michele Branch song that I know. And if you're lucky, a bit of Jewel."**

**"If ya ain't gonna buy, then get out!"**

**"Wanna lose your only customer?"**

**The guy shook his head. **

**"Then back off!"**

**Idbash watched as the flame burned higher and higher, towering over all the rest of the candles. It was something to behold. Her eyes watched the dancing and swaying flame and again a tremor, much larger and much more noticeable shook through the Gatlin grounds. The desk shook considerably, the books fell behind one another, and the rest of the objects on the desks (including papers, pens, pencils, and containers of ink/blood) fared not as well. With her agility, she leaped up to the window sill and nudged her head under the window, struggled a few seconds, and finally was able to crawl underneath with the little space she was able to create. "Crap, Admatha won't like this at all." She shape-shifted back into her human form and ran into the fields, her feet drumming the ground. "Whoever is doing this won't get far; this type of power cannot be held in complete control." **

**The corn stalks pushed themselves away, hoping to avoid getting trampled on by the fleet-footed demon, who decided upon making a mad dash into the portal from where she originally came from. "To flee from this dream would take one kiss, but to flee from the horror being born is to outrun that dream in the first place." **

**_And to the gentle maiden, a bid farewell, for the world will no longer be able to hold such beauty any longer. _**


	5. Chapter Four

Ladies and Gentlemen: 

Once again, I implore that if you want your character to be in this fanfic, that you write down in the review box all that I ask. The next chapter after this will make the rest of the story R and the battling will begin soon after. Also, now is the time to make requests about who you want to win and why. At this point anything goes (except flames). After a few more chapters the "good guy" character submission will close; but before you begin to invade my review box with flames (even though I declined), you may begin a new category. The good guys' requirements are listed on the first/title section. Now I will make requirements for the bad guys. 

Bad guys: everyone wants to be a bad guy, don't try to deny it. Well, here are your requirements. Name (only a first name is required unless you want to go all out!), gender, age, height, weight, eye color, hair color, leader you want to follow or at least be around, personality (loyal, trustworthy, a killing machine), favorite weapon and backup weapon, and finally a favorite requirement by nearly all, demonic powers. I will allow the first 10 people who respond quickly to become a hanyou or half demon with powers (any of your own choosing, limited to three, no choosing immortality because even a half demon has his or her own weakness. Look up Inu-Yasha for more info). Also, as a hanyou, you must pick an animal half to be attached to (wolf, cat, dog, hawk…) Finally, the reason for ten is for the five leaders, two demons for five leaders to work with; so only two to each leader. Pick wisely. When one leader is taken, choose another. If I receive more reviews from different people than I may extend the offer or allow some leeway. Also if you and another person want to have the same "animal half" and want to work with the same leader, I will let you become a small pack. All right. Now then, soon I will have this thing becoming R; I will allow and enter in more intriguing scenarios. 

Thank you and Enjoy!

Author: Quiet thief

PS: A good friend has already taken Isaac, before I had time to write this up. She has chosen her animal half to be a panther. In other words, she'll make a good example of what I will do to your evil characters (HEHEHEHEHEHE) 

**Good Luck, Amanda**

**_"Sempa, trula remsorto diselalo maniq politram Murok sela de simpliar." _**

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Admatha turned quickly to see the young Silkster being devoured by the pregnant female; as the last of the long, hairy legs was being dissolved by the powerful saliva, Admatha figured that now it would be best to see if her little gopher Jael, was able to stand on guard.  He Who Walks Behind the Rows would definitely have trouble breaking her down if He wanted any information on her powers, but the likely event was that He would be toying with her and making her work even harder. But Admatha refused to believe that her plan would fail; after all, she had easily gotten rid of her pesky cousin. Turning towards her pets, she saw the pregnant female sitting still in the corner, looking most contempt after a big meal; perhaps it was all she needed in order to calm down. Pushing back her white/blonde hair with her long delicate fingers, Admatha wondered if she should let her minion have some more time in order to prepare her report. Despite the fact that a few more, minor details had to be taken care of before the revival of the leaders, she was very curious as to find out who was strong enough to show that he was more powerful than the rest. The choices were narrowed down to two, but there was always the devious way of showing the most strength by not showing any at all. Isaac could have easily become strong, being that he did die twice; the strength to come back once was enough to show that he possessed more than Eli, Ezekiel, and Josiah. However, Micah seemed to have a greater control with his powers, providing great feats of skill; but then again, he used his power to demonstrate his whims rather than those of He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Watching out the window, she saw her little black raven circling around the skies, waiting for its next prey, staring down at the forest floor, and hoping that fresh meat would appear quickly. Her light blue eyes closed for a moment, lost in the memory that no pureblooded demon should have, and sighed loudly. 

**The pregnant Silkster hissed out a warning, but let her master show for once, weakness.**

**Deep in the bowels of insanity, he waited. A dark-eyed death awaited his return. To grip the strong handle of a scythe and hear the steal blade break a fragile little neck. To hear the pitiful screams of an interloper dying at his hands and to take the impure blood and cast it out of the fields; he missed it all. He missed the sound of his own voice preaching the words of his Master, his Father, his God. With dark eyes he looked up at the high ceiling and smirked. Earth would once again taste blood; as soon as he was given parole. **

**Raven exited the school grounds and hurried towards her car, Kyle was in tow, wanting badly to just be with her. Whether or not she wanted his company. The car started without any problems and quickly she backed out; unfortunately, she missed her moving target that then had the guts to curse at her. Raven only smirked in response before peeling out to Ember's. Schoolwork was never the same without some true guidance from a well-rehearsed student and Raven knew that in order to pass her latest essay assignment. **

**Amanaka turned around and immediately shot forth a blast of electricity, frying her opponent on sight; she growled and flipped out of harms way, awaiting the next attack from the half-wolf, Ransolo. The smell of the woods filled the abandoned warehouse; Ransolo apparently had not eaten before the fight, or else she would have noticed blood and fresh in the air also. Her opponent was strong, easily dodging most of her attacks with his wolf-like speed and endurance. Her panther like speed was good, but her endurance was running low while the half-wolf's was just reaching its peak; he flashed his teeth and grinned, warning her to watch her step, perhaps even surrender to a better fighter. But what he did not know was that a half-demon already 417 years old already owned enough instinct and learned enough tricks to make up for her endurance. With a heart racing faster, she looked around and saw that her last attack would have to do the trick or else she would have to run. Ransolo, with his wolf-like speed was already behind her before she could use another four word swear. "Come on, darlin'" he snarled, "You know as well as I do that I've won." She could feel his sharp teeth upon her neck and shivering, she called upon her greatest power. "I swear, Ransolo, if you think that you've won, then you're stupider than I thought!" Quickly, she took her hands and let them drop to her side and began to chant the ancient words that has escaped her lips only three decades before. "_Sule etma temso luká wentral, sule etma temso luká wentral, sule etma temso luká wentral, sule etma temso luká wentral, sule etma temso luká wentral, sule etma temso luká wentral…" _Through her entire body she felt the power of the fiercest storm, raging and fighting to get out and destroy. Ransolo, back off, realizing that she was in no way kidding about his stupidity, but now was not the time to apologize. Now was the time to duck and roll. **

**Amanaka's blue eyes rolled in the back of her head as her body chilled to an icy degree. Ransolo licked his lips, as the pupils in his eyes became slits. "You wouldn't dare kill me. Come on, Amanaka, think about it. You kill me and who will be left to annoy the hell out of you. Come on, Amanaka, think about this move, it is not at all like you and it is a poorly executed maneuver."**

**"But it is so perfect," she responded. "Absolutely, perfect for you." **

**Her body exploded in a ghastly array of heat and cold, and Ransolo had little time to prepare for the onslaught. His organs were the first hit, from the bowels of his stomach to the little nerve endings in his central thinking system; his blood raced with burning cold and his flesh felt fiery hot and everything else melted in the mixture of intense pain. Ransolo should have just let go of her body, but the half-panther demon girl held on, knowing that in about seven-eight minutes there would be nothing left of her opponent; the only problem with her attack was wondering whether there would be anything left of her. **

**Ransolo screamed in pain, his clawed hands grasping wildly at air, he tried to jab her and tear at her flesh, hoping that in the commotion, she would let go. However, he also knew that it would be miracle if she did, for no demon ever survived this attack: The attack of both Fire and Ice. His eyes widened up with pain, the yellow becoming tinted with red as the blood vessels began to burst in each socket. There was nothing left for him to do, but wait for Death's generous hand to slay him down. The half-wolf swore before giving himself totally to her hands. **

**Amanaka slumped forward, smiling, as victory was hers. But this time she did the unexpected and let the half-wolf live, even though it would take decades for him to recover from his wounds and broken pride. And it would take her some time to recover herself. With her body burning from the outside, she knew that it would take more than a trip to the Antarctic to cold her down; this time it was serious. Ransolo was already unconscious on the floor and if she settled down for a nap, it was not like he would kill her. They luckily fought in the arena when no fights were scheduled so no one would see either of them wounded and there would be no catcalls for the death match. Her double-edged weapon was always her angle, defying her opponents any opportunity to kill her; except, of course, when she would have to be against a full power demon. Because if she were ever to have in the position to have death stare her in the face, she would do it herself; after all, she did have her pride.**

**Idbash swept her hand over her deep red hair and watched with amber eyes as the flame above the candle continued to burn. The wax hardly melted even though the flame had been lit for over three hours. She did have her own opinion on who was trying to break free, but she remained quiet because her master hated for her to have an opinion about anything. But still, she could not help it. After all, she had been in love with him for three decades and had seen such awesome potential in his leadership; she wished that it was him. Returning back to her human form, she waited and watched, completely bored out of her mind. He Who Walks Behind the Rows had not offered her another meal and she was beginning to think that perhaps He wanted something from her, a token of her appreciation or perhaps information on how to destroy the seductive and elusive Admatha. Well, whatever it was she certainly was not going to let Him have His way; if she needed food, she was going to get it herself. The candle continued to burn, as though assuring her that it would be there as soon as she came back. Nothing was going to happen unless the Leader found himself in trouble with the Great Power that Be; but, that would mean that he would be held for only a small amount of time. Signs given before they were due were given nothing more than a passing thought and the Great Power that Be always had cases that deserved more of his time than a psychotic juvenile. The door opened calmly and she expected that it was Admatha; but instead it was Sano, a messenger from the jail grounds of hell. He always looked pathetic, even in his raccoon form; a pathetic little thief looking for some kicks. **

**He stood up and changed form, a young man with eyes darker than the terrifying Micah Balding. "Admatha has found the last piece and has asked me to bring you to her." He licked his lips and she shuddered, rather appropriately considering that he always had on eye on her. **

**"Fine," she replied. "I'll go." **

**"Good; but then of course, you wouldn't dare not accept a request from your master. I really don't blame you, Idbash. Or should I call you, Jael? Personally, I would rather call you my own, my little slave, my little---"**

**Idbash turned slowly back towards the candles and sighed. "And when he comes, you'll wish that you would have left me alone, Sano. After all, the Leaders have always been more powerful than you, it would not surprise me if they decided to toy with you before beginning the real tournament." She faced him and smirked, her own fangs protruding just a bit. "I'd watch your step if I were you, Sano." She walked out the door, Sano moving in behind her. Waiting perhaps for her to falter along the way. **

**He waited and felt his energy fading fast. His only choice was to extinguish the flame, which he did. He succeeded in his personal mission; scare the shit out of his competition, make the others worry and dance around on the tips of their toes. He loved it. Always did and always will. The flames burned higher, surrounding his isolated island even more. He worried that perhaps Admatha might restrict the usage of his magic tricks or perhaps have him immediately banned from the competition for not showing any sportsmanship. He really hated being patient with details and firmly believed in killing for the pleasure of it. But then again, his best work came from formulating a decisive and devastating plan of attack. But for now, his plan of attack was reaching freedom. He wanted freedom and he wanted to be her. Take her away to their own private area and rid himself of being a pawn in a sick and twisted game of adults-v-children. He wanted retirement. Maybe every now and then kill, but only to take the edge off. There was not much he could do after Samuel became instated as the newest leader, and teaching Samuel his old ways of working would be fine. Then Sammy could take over the business and he could relax with her, taking back all the pleasures he had missed with her while he was away doing His bidding. Ah, how much he wanted to be the romantic to her, how much he wanted to take hold of her and kiss her soft lips. If he could be with her than that would make him completely happy; perhaps, she could even stop his violent tendencies. But for now, he would have to live with the fantasies and pray that the last key in the game would turn up soon. He wanted to defeat the others and show them that he was above their capabilities, but he wanted even more to impress her and give her the confidence that she had chosen wisely with picking him as a love.  **

**Ember slept in the rest of the afternoon and showed no signs of getting up soon; Cody's death arrived an hour after she had returned home. Her clothes were laid out for the heartbreaking event, but she was not at all sure if she wanted to go. Cody was her best friend and the boy that she loved completely; the only one who was there for her when her mother died. And now that he was gone, whom could she turn to? **

**Except to the hidden revolver in the hall closet. **

**Tabitha closed her eyes when Michael dropped her off at her house. _Boy, am I lucky, she thought as he drove away, tearing up the road. Entering her house, she saw that her mother was home, an amused grin plastered on her face. "One of these days, Tabby, you will spend an entire day in high school. One day, you will surprise me."_**

**Tabitha loved her easy-going mother. She was a wise, hard-working woman who understood her daughter better than she. However, her mother also understood that education was the key to success and therefore, proceeded to pull out the rest of her schoolbooks, along with a pen, pencil and paper. "And tonight you will finish the assigned homework and spend an entire day at _school. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.  I love you, but I love my investment more. I want to see a gain in profit, young lady." _**

**Raven thought about it and Kyle knew exactly what she was thinking. "You cannot go back, Raven. It's over. He is not coming back for you."**

**"Yeah," she agreed, "But it's nice to dream about it." **

**Kyle reached over and turned on the radio, listening gingerly to the lyrics before stating the obvious. "He'll be back. You and I both know that you can not keep him down for long." **

**Admatha watched as the small and petit, fourteen-year old girl ran down the street and into the bookstore, while a gang of muscular boys went chasing after her. "There she is. The last piece of the puzzle. The one with the blood of her ancestors on her hands." Pulling her white/blonde hair back, she grinned as the girl smartly hid in the restrooms and made her way towards the large window leading into a hidden back alleyway. Where it led was to salvation. And her gang of stupid boys would be lost from her view. Out of the shadows, Sano and Idbash emerged, standing and waiting for their orders; however, Admatha was too involved to notice, until Sano spoke, out of place. "We're here." Admatha slowly turned, affected by the lack of respect shown to her. Quickly she spoke to herself, though her mutterings could still be heard. "S'lanco. Ven'ulo simplur." **

**Jael smirked and remained behind Sano, who bowed his head and silently wished for his humiliation to end quickly, what Jael did not understand, Sano did and in the Elder Language, it was not pleasant to hear. Such an insult required viciousness and Admatha was not one to remain pleased for very long. "I'm sorry, Admatha; forgive my rudeness. I did not mean to interfere with your searching." **

**Admatha smiled and stared him in the eyes. "At least you know your place when it is called upon." She curled her lips into a mysterious smile, captivating her audience. Sano hardly moved, while Jael wondered how long it would be until the girl killed a family member. At least she had something to do when the candles were flickering. Now with Sano's unwanted help, she was here in a large, overly populated city watching a flea and tick infested girl run for her life. **

**Still underneath the earth, he waited so very impatiently. It was taking too long for the rites to be preformed and he had no intention of waiting any longer than he had to. Besides, he could easily make a deal with another great power and rise up, but the game had to be played a certain way, or else the others would think badly of him. **


	6. Chapter Five

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Dear Readers:

Wow! Thank you all so much for your support, I had no idea that this story would be something that people would honestly want to read (even though, I am sure, the plot struck your fancy!) Anyway, I would now appreciate that the votes come in! Tell me why certain any leader should win! Any and all details would be greatly appreciated, because I have no idea on who will win. Please vary your favorites (understandably Micah and Isaac are the favorites so far on this site) and explain in as much detail as you wish. I want as much audience participation as possible. 

I enjoy writing the long chapters, so excuse me if I do not update very often. I wish I could type all throughout the night; however, school stops me from doing so. Oh well, I guess an education is important.

I hope that you will enjoy the fact that in this chapter there is some creative myth. This hopefully gives you a perspective of the origins of He Who Walks Behind the Rows.

Sorry to those who saw the requirements for good/bad guy and wanted to be in it. With about 30 main characters and each leader now having the recommended demon helpers, I have decided to close off any more requests. Thank you for those who gave me ideas and allowed me to use your character. In due time you will see your character truly come to life. 

Again, I thank you all for your time and loyalty. Enjoy the next chapter in this thrilling horror.

Sincerely yours: Quiet thief

PS: Please review; I want to know if this is getting any better and being the author, I have biased opinions. * giggle *

He watched her, felt her, and wished that she be near. Every move she made was a move closer to him. And how he wished that the damn rites would be over with soon so he could return to her arms and feel her soft touch once more. Oh how, he wished that this damn ritual would be over. After all, it was pretty much guaranteed that he would be the winner, but the only thing he wanted to win was her heart once again. He watched with dark eyes as she gracefully move past the annoying people of her life, pushing that air of elegance around to the point where it drove him dizzy. Her eyes looked so lost and he was so lost without her. The hours went by so slowly that it seemed like God was preventing him from ever returning; He Who Walks Behind the Rows already gave him a long conversation about his lust for her, along with a few bruises. _She abandoned US and you want to return to her! That little bitch cost ME years of planning! Samuel will come into this world years late, because of what she did! Influencing Malachi to turn away from ME and Isaac. I forbid you to even go near her when you return! UNDERSTAND! MY WORD IS LAW AND IF YOU BREAK THE LAW, SHE DIES IN YOUR SIGHT!_

He rubbed his arm, a painful reminder of what raising the wrath of He Who Walks Behind the Rows can do. Even his brother was not that harsh. But through the pain, he remembered her, and by remembering her the pain diminished. "One day," he spoke to the laughing, dancing shadows on the wall. "One day, I shall return, and we will be together, whether or not it was prophesied." He could feel her heart beating and her smell her sweet scent, fresh rain. "I shall make my own destiny. And it shall be with her."

Suddenly, another voice appeared. "You heard what the Master said. Stay away from her. And stop showing off your power. Pride is a destructful trait." He knew whom the voce belonged to and cringed at the sound of it. "Listen to me…I know that love is something none of us can ever have, but have you ever wondered why we are not to share in that feeling? It will make us weak. It is already making you weak…anyone of us could kill you again right now, because you are so blinded by your own needs and desires. What can she do for you? Bear you a child, give you warmth, feed you with tempting and sacrilegious food such as exotic fruit? She will kill you with her ways. She will destroy all that we have worked so hard to achieve and He will not be happy." The voice continued babbling other reasonable advice, but it was all lost. "Just stay away from her...stay far, far, far away from her. Or else, I will personally make sure that you are the first to die. This I promise." 

__

"You promise many things. You even promised Him new followers. You failed miserably. You don't make promises. You make poor decisions."

The voice became quiet. Too quiet. The dancing flames surrounding him sounded louder than usual; but the voice had one last thing to say. "When I become free, she'll die. Then you'll die."

Amanaka felt her muscles loosen up again and felt her animal instincts rage through her veins. Ransolo was out for a while and from what she heard, the arena was still in good condition for the fight against Cole, the half-fox, and Kari, the half-hawk, which she fortunately, had, tickets for. Her apartment looked better since she had time to clean it; the book case held journals of her conquests, the histories of the demon cultures, and books on her newest obsession, ancient Amazonian fighting. The coffee table was newly polished and the medium sized TV finally gained new channels that she could afford. Unfortunately she had no time to shop for food while recovering from the fight with the half-wolf and now her blood supply was out. Finding it in the outside world was not going to be easy, since the arrival of Admatha, top demon. She had scared away most of the humans from venturing down into the dark places of their cities and now only the few and stupid were snatched. It was not enough and most of the other demons and half demons were becoming restless. Mutiny was spreading; but Admatha was already searching for new recruits and adding with the reward money, free meals on wheels. Amanaka was strong, but did not want to apply for the job, fearing the one person would be there. Idbash, the destruction demon. The past has a horrible way of always coming up when money was needed. And now that money and food were in need, she knew that Idbash would be close by. The phone rang and immediately, Amanaka knew that it was bringing bad news.

"Hello."

"_Hello, Amanaka. Remember me?_"

Amanaka sighed and growled out a response. "Yes. I hear that you're in need of assistance, Admatha. Is the job you're on too difficult for the Almighty Bitch of the Underworld?"

She heard a confident chuckle on the other end of the line. "_Why all the hostility? Are you afraid that I might be the bearer of bad news? Amanaka, come now. You seriously cannot be thinking that I want your help in this matter. I don't need it._"

"Then what do you want, Admatha?" 

"_I just wanted to know if you wanted an opportunity of a lifetime?_"

Amanaka shook her head; the phone still pressed against her ear so she could listen in on the interrupting sounds, such as a laugh from another listening party. When she could find none, she decided to foreign interest in whatever deal was being offered. "Maybe I need a new opportunity."

"_You don't sound that convincing, Amanaka. Now, why is that? Oh, yes, you're deathly afraid of the half-demon Idbash. One of my closest associates in this little resurrection party. Might you be interested if I offered you a way to defeat her? Perhaps a way to destroy her permanently? Take your time, Amanaka. You know my number."_ The phone went dead in her hands.

"I think I like that ideology."

He continued to think about her and how pleasant it would be whack off the owner of the voice. Then how pleasant it would be to return to her and truly make her, his own. To linger his hands through her hair and look lovingly into her eyes and feel that surge of electricity running through his veins. How much he wanted to feel alive again! How much he needed to be with her! Twisting his head, he wondered how much the owner of the voice knew about his relationship with her; after all, he kept the information withheld from the followers and dead leaders. But the voice sounded as though he knew more than what he was letting on. He wondered what would happen if he did tell the others about his exclusive relationship between him and his girl, what type of chaos would that bring to the community of "misfits". She was certainly his type and it took him years of hunting and chasing to finally catch her. Wild as she was, she had a very deep desire to be caught by any man willing enough to chase after her for a long time. She claimed it showed "dedication", he said it showed "spunk". She loved him and that was enough motivation to make him yearn for freedom; he would have found a way out, any way out, but an easier opportunity found him first. 

He walked around his little island of dancing flames and ghastly shadows, which had yet to frighten him. Something was not right; the owner of that voice was just too knowledgeable and most likely willing to do some damage, perhaps force or persuade the others to kill him off first. It would not have been the first for him. Nor would it be the last. 

Admatha smile as she hung up the phone. Inside the apartment, only Sano stayed. Jael was sent to look out for other predators. Also inside, was the little teenager, Silver; the child with the blood of her ancestors, the child who would be able to resurrect the Leaders. CNN was on and the newscaster went on explaining how there were mysterious tremors coming from the Nebraska/Bible Belt area and why there seemed to be so many trips made by parents to go and visit relatives there, despite the dangers that a huge earthquake might be in the immediate future. Admatha smiled. Sano shuddered at the sight of the smile and went back to his original duties. Interrogating the girl; Silver was in no way a simple task to complete; the girl was feisty, kicking continually at the half-raccoon and squirming to get out of the chair. "Knock it off!" cried Sano at one particular point. "I haven't eaten ya yet!" But the girl did not stop, nor did she seem to care that her captor was growing fangs; all she cared about at the moment was being released back onto the streets where she "belonged". The CNN correspondent reported that the cornfields around the small towns of Hemmingford and Gatlin were beginning to grow at an alarming rate, considering that both towns were having a long drought season. "The winds are dying down for the moment, Michelle, something that has been occurring for the last few days. This wind is causing increasing numbers of dust storms throughout the area; especially in Granway. Some of the local farmers have been disappearing due to these storms. One wife claims that her husband was only going to the back of the house to turn on the water heater. Hours later she still waited and soon enough the idea of foul play entered her mind. Unfortunately, Michelle, foul play was nowhere near this small town. Instead, it turned out that the farmer was impaled by a stray –get this – corn stalk from out in the fields. He was found days later by his wife when she saw his body slumped, head lowered, and torso struck. By Michelle, there was no blood to be found. Everything was spotless."

"Well, Henry, what do the experts think happened to this poor individual?"

"Michelle, they think it was just an unfortunate circumstance."

"Are there any other experts out there: Autopsy, medical doctors, local farmers that could describe the scene or perhaps explain why something like this happened?"

"Only one person attempted to explain what happened. An old, retired priest."

"What did he say?"

"That the world was coming to an end, Michelle. That the children will crush the unbelievers and defilers of the corn. That is all." 

Sano turned the television off and shrugged. "Guess you won't be living for very long, Silver."

Admatha brushed her white/blonde hair back and walked over to the now whimpering girl. "How right they are, Silver. The children will crush the defilers of the corn. And only one will have the honor to lead them to the battle fields." 

Tabitha knew that she was different from Ember, Raven, and Kyle but was not sure why she felt that way. They all accepted her and allowed her to be herself completely, even when others would down upon her when she would make a sarcastic comment about the latest trends. But they were each so bonded to one another that it still made Tabitha feel insecure and out-casted. She pushed back her blonde hair, which was now beginning to show signs of red streaks, something, that happened only a few times in her life. "Perhaps. Perhaps it's time that I confronted them about this. Maybe it is because I'm so different, and they are not." But strangely, she felt that it was not true at all. 

Amanaka felt slightly uneasily about calling Admatha back with a response. Yes, she did want the absolute pleasure of destroying the one who destroyed her, but the invitation was all simple and easy. _Maybe there is something more to this_, she thought. _Maybe she is setting me up for something, a downfall of cosmic proportions. Something that would leave me banned. What the hell does she want with me?_

There were not a lot of choices. She could only do one thing. 

Call. 

Silver struggle against the rope that was slowly cutting into her skin. She knew that her captors were in no way related to the gang that was following her earlier, but then again, every gang was following her. She had become a target all too quickly. She noticed that the male was subordinate to the white haired female, therefore her way of freedom would have to come from her. Taking a quick glance around the room, she noticed that the hotel patio was rather large, meaning that she was dragged unconsciously to the top floor. That only meant that she was trapped for a long time, even though it would be possible to escape. The man named Sano sat on the other side of the room, reading a magazine and humming a nonsensical tune. The female, Admatha, had left them alone, explaining before she left that Jael hadn't brought her back any news, good or bad, and was assuming that she abandoned her post. Or worst, that she was betraying the cause. Silver tried to hear what the "cause" could be, but everything they said was too vague to understand. All she knew was that Gatlin and Hemmingford were involved. But from where had she heard those names before.

The monks with their hooded capes came walking into the main arena, each chanting the verse of Old. _Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! _ Everything was going smoothly as far as the Elder was concerned. The green flames from the pit were growing higher and higher, now the only light in the room. The first five monks brought in five orbs, each glowing a hazy white color, while the sixth monk in line brought in The Book of Worlds, the most sacred of all texts. The Elder watched as the first five monks walked around the pit, each choosing a certain point on which to place the orb to form the all too recognizable sign. _Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! Sul maint reputro kiya wendter lamno temmi tesmi unalo! _ The Elder was handed The Book of Worlds and waited for the chanters to quiet down before truly initiating the beginning of the end. 

He opened the large, dusty book and began to read. "Tesmi ari Es livra. Et ait tiru tesmi Es seni tu commince et tu finar. Tu wirant wisu comminct li dalar, ute tu Tami Spirato seni tu nele futo lina. Tu lina wisu godiä… **** __

Time ago Nothing lived. And at that time Nothing saw the beginning and the end. The world was beginning to form, in the Great Spirit's mind. But it had yet to produce. Nothing was alone in the darkness and existence had yet to be born. Nothing saw life and death, glory and destruction, happiness and pain, love and hate; Nothing saw and knew everything. Yet, Nothing was powerless to stop what was already written in His mind and was powerless to create the existence that had yet to be. And so millenniums passed like days and Nothing remained alone, unable to stop time and soon, His ultimate downfall. Nothing lived a life unfulfilled, because of His lack of power and immense knowledge; He knew that soon the void would need to be filled and when that time came Nothing would disappear forever into the places where existence could not breach. 

Darkness kept Nothing company; even its silence spoke in volumes about how the world would survive ages without Him. The void did grow during the waiting period. It grew with restlessness and resentment towards Nothing, bitter because the void wanted life, any type of life. And Nothing could not provide it. And when the hour came for Nothing to vanish, Nothing came up with a salvation, the first worldly miracle. Through His immense knowledge, Nothing begot Chaos and the void was pleased and allowed Nothing to remain. The void waited to see what Chaos would bring. 

Chaos was born in the form of a snake, with scales for armor, eyes to see all, and a large body with which to protect His creations. But what Chaos lacked Nothing had and what Nothing lacked Chaos had. Nothing had knowledge but no power, while Chaos had power, but no knowledge. And what Chaos created was nothing more than a mess, a jumble a things with no meaning to them. Nothing saw this and the void saw this, but neither of them could change what had begun. Chaos created chaos. Chaos could not stop what He was creating, for Nothing had already foreseen it and it was to be done. And Chaos spewed out air, water, heat, and land. Yet with no reason to sort them out, each creation was left to continually overthrow the other. Chaos coiled His massive body around each of His creations, allowing them no room to escape into the void and be lost forever. Nothing could not help, for His time was over and Chaos could only contain what was made, but could not place meaning to them. So Chaos stayed for centuries, guarding His creations from roaming and being lost forever. His snake-like eyes scanned the darkness and the waters lapped up against His immense body. Air continually whispered in his Master's ear, while heat scorched the land and land, weakest of them all, suffered. Chaos spewed out metals, to protect His least power hungry child, and the metals begot rock and formed the land into a mighty warrior. Heat continued its conquest, overthrowing air and water. Chaos saw it and regretted heat's birth. Nothing saw heat's power-hungry mind and watched as His son failed to bring about meaning and reason. But just as Nothing foresaw His downfall into the hands of His son, so he saw the downfall of His son. In the hands of His grandson. 

Thus, when it came the time for Chaos to join His father, Chaos begot Order by spewing out the last of his strength and using water to create the next being to rule over Chaos' creations. Nothing was pleased and gave part of His strength to Order, allowing him to have knowledge over what was created and what would be created. Chaos placed himself in the far reaches of the void, awaiting His own Second Coming, when the world could no longer grasp knowledge, but power. 

Order placed the things created by His father, Chaos, into a system. Order gave the land a place, the waters a place, heat a place, and air, a place. Order ruled longer than his forefathers and ruled with the tightest reign. But He did not have the power to create, only the power to control. And control kept a reign on Him. Order placed the waters at the edge of the land, securing their place for all eternity, while air hung in heat, to create fire. Order with the face of a fox and body of a coyote, walked carefully on the land, focused with keeping His father's creations at bay and in constant obedience. With a fox-like mind, Order knew that He too would be forced to give up His power to another, more powerful than He and more powerful than His forefathers. But Order had ambition and that made Him a formidable opponent, towards even His own son. But until the time that His Son dominated Him, Order would continue His reign. 

The Elder watched from underneath his hood, how his followers seemed to fall into his words, listening intently to everything he had to say. Most he knew had already heard the story long ago, but the newer ones paid the most attention. Nothing was their Grandfather's age, Chaos their Father's age, and Order Their age. Or so it felt to them. But that was not the case. Even though, it felt so true. Order and focus were key in this nasty business of the occult; as well as, being incredibly stupid. The Elder saw that in their eyes, their dark inky black eyes and wondered if for a moment, if they knew the truth, would they fall even deeper into His plan?

__

He could see her now, a vision, a mirage goddess of the desert. Her dark hair and piercing green eyes, which could turn a hint of amber, gazed at him and his sad state. Normally, he would have felt ashamed, but this time, in his dark place, it was all right. He could see her tanned skin and eyes beckoning him to come closer. Her clothes lay simply across the skin, while her shimmering body glistened in the flame's light. He walked over slowly, prowled at his prey and licked his lips over his fangs. He looked deep into her eyes, her eyes that spoke in ageless tongues with ageless wisdom. His hands reached her first, touching the soft, smooth skin. They ran up and down her back and in the other places where her clothes dare not go. She was vulnerable for once, allowing him the simple pleasures of taking her slowly. His lips touched hers and he felt her hands running themselves throughout his hair, pulling him in. He nibbled at her neck as his hands expertly undid the fumbling clothes to reveal even more shimmering skin. His hands now roamed everywhere, but his eyes were locked onto hers; the flamers grew higher and the fire grew hotter, surrounding them, but neither took any notice of hell. Her hands slid down his bare chest and dotted their way up again; she touched his face and kissed his forehead, nose, and finally lips. She intensified her movements, kissing harder and harder, pushing her way passed his boundaries. "Stop," he whispered and she did. "How did you…?" She answered for him. "I have my ways. I've always had my ways." She pressed a finger to his lips and giggled, "Let us resume before I leave again." He readily agreed and took control, unveiling one last boundary and tossing it aside with ease. She smiled and leaned in. "To your return." He smirked back. "To my return." She felt his hands, exploring her and smiled with relief at the fact that he no longer needed a road map in order to find her weaknesses and make her tingle. He was glad that she finally knew how to be aggressive and a little more in control with her own abilities. The flames rose higher and higher, reaching to the top of the ceiling, until…she was…

He woke up and noticed that the flames had gone down quite a bit. He also felt the sweat that had soaked right through his dark shirt that had be strategically placed as a pillow for his head. His heart was racing fast and he still felt her touch all over, but he wondered if perhaps it was all some twisted dream?

Silver watched as the blood from her palm fell onto the white carpet of the hotel. Sano leaned forward and grinned evilly, taking her hand into his mouth and taking a little sip of her life-juice. "So delicious," he murmured in her ear, "and it is hard to believe that it came from you, little bitch." Admatha stood by Sano and she immediately hit him upside the head. "Thou shalt not take her blood, Sano. She still has a purpose. The time is already at hand. To Gatlin we return to." Sano placed a hand upon his head, the stinging pain, gnawing away at his alliance with the Almighty Bitch of the Underworld. Silver sat in the chair, no longer squirming from frustration, but crying from the fear that now was the time when she would finally see God and feel His hand upon her heart. "Judge me not," she whispered in pain. "Accept me for who I am. Or for who I was." Admatha smirked before turning her back on the girl; Sano moved away from Silver, though very tempted to lick the blood off from her palm. The girl on the chair shook and Sano knew that if he tried anything, Admatha would most likely strike him where he stood. So he left her there, tears coursing down her pretty pale skin. The television was still on, the CNN correspondent still describing the events happening in California, Nevada, Colorado, and Nebraska. The ground was losing control, evil things were stirring, and things that should have remained dead were rising once more to take away innocence. But the correspondent did not know that Gatlin was awakening from a long sleep, he only thought it was the beginning of a major catastrophe: he was not far off, actually. A catastrophe was approaching and just like a catastrophe, it was not going to be pretty at all. 

Sano approached Admatha carefully, quickly asking about the half-demon Idbash. "Will she…?" he began and by looking in his master's eyes, he knew the answer. "Is there…?" and the answer again was no. No would always plague him, no would always be there to stop him, no was the one answer he knew to be the truth. 

No.

_Order struggled when His time approached, as do all things struggle when they realize that it is their turn to step-down. From Order came Justice, Mercy, and Punishment; the first trinity of the world. The first to fully overthrow their Father and become beloved entities, rulers who could create and govern the creations new or old, well. With divided power still used as one, the creations found peace and prosperity with the new rulers. Justice swiftly executed Laws, Mercy gave chances, and Punishment dealt out blows to those passed over by Justice and Mercy. The creations were pleased. So pleased were they, that they began to form an alliance amongst themselves. So pleased were they that they began to form and grow at their own will. So pleased were they, that for once all memory of the tyrant Order had vanished. The creations were pleased, the void was please, Nothing was pleased, and the world to be would soon be pleased. _

Tabitha looked into the mirror and saw another 17 year-old staring back at her. The girl in the mirror looked so much like her, but it was not her. Everything felt wrong and could be seen in her eyes. Her blue told everything, a story, a song, a journey. For a moment she thought back to Peter S. Beagle's _The Last Unicorn_ and wondered if perhaps, she was transformed from something else and merely forgot what she truly was. Her heart had lied to her all these years and her mind followed in its path, but still, she knew that her heart was only protecting her from a reality that she did not want to have. Facing lies is so much easier than having the truth throw itself into life like a wrecking ball. The lies cared and the truth hurt. But something deep inside of her, something in the depths of her soul, wanted the truth. No, it needed the truth in order to survive. Why did she have that "bit of inhuman grace", an air that others could see so plainly; something she was so blind to? The night moon had kept in silently, bathing her room in a pale glow. It called her to the window, to gaze upon its beauty, which could not be denied. The moon held her in its glow and bathed her in beauty, telling her not the lies she had always heard, but a truth she had always come to know. A truth that was ageless against time, a truth that was older than she. The moon bathed her in memory. The moon gave her what she needed. 

Kyle stared at Raven and asked her a simple question. "Do you feel it?"

Raven had to answer, even though it meant giving the obvious answer more reassure than it needed. "Yes. I feel it in my bones, which are about to break from the heaviness of such a load." She pushed away her black hair and watched with sparkling gray eyes as everything she had ever known, be turned to dust. The foundation of the world was crumbling at her feet, everything was returning back into what it once was. Everything was dying, surrounding her with decay and misery. The faces of those she loved melted and dripped onto the ground, faceless skulls moaning and blaming. Moaning and blaming her for their ill-fated history. "I feel it everywhere."

"Ember hasn't called and I haven't felt her presence in over five hours; Raven something is not right. Ember should have been here with us. She has the Gift of Sight. She knows exactly when it will happen." 

"Just like her mother did." Raven walked towards Ember's front door, tempted to open it and see what was inside. And all it took was a hand on the front door. "She was exactly like her mother." Kyle gave her a weird look and touched the door as well. And he too understood. Raven sighed and let her hand dwindled a little more on the front door, before turning her back and walking away. "She was exactly like her mother; only this destroyed her internally." 

"I wonder if anyone heard it?" Kyle lowered his eyes, not even bothering to look at Raven now. "Wonder when we'll be notified of it?" He didn't wait for an answer and instead walked off in the other direction. "Perhaps it is time that we truly got ready for it…after all, Raven, we knew it had to be coming."

Raven moved swiftly in front of him. "Don't ya think that perhaps we should do something?"

"What can we do? Raven, this is serious! They got to her. They got to her before we could. It's happening and she couldn't tell us. This is we have to go!" Kyle pushed his way past her, his eyes darkening, his face becoming calmer and calmer. "They took her. He took her."

"And we will find her again; Kyle, they still need time to set up and prepare for His coming."

"There won't be enough time to revive her, Raven. We have to leave immediately. Tabitha will understand."

"No, she won't Kyle. Besides, how long will we be gone for? We can't do this now! Tabitha won't understand. She's not one of us!"

"She doesn't need to be one of us. Ember knew what she was. She was something else." 

"Yeah. She's normal."

Amanaka called Admatha back, worried more about the agreement in the alliance than about how dangerous the task was. She was sure that the friendly laugh at the end of the conversation was more than what it seemed, but she did not have time decode it. After all, she did have the chance of a lifetime. Killing Idbash was certainly worth the risk of working with Admatha. 

David Johnson, a fine male specimen of about 24, entered the local church with ease. He picked out the fourth row and sat down, picking up the Bible and turning at the exact page the priest was on. The onlookers noticed but said only a few hushed words. He smiled to them, gave them a reassuring glance, and then went back to his work. They knew who he was and he knew who they were. _Phonies_, he thought. _All of them just trying to hide their damn sins. Don't they realize that they will soon all be exposed_? He kept back a laugh and continued to flip through the Bible, bored with the passage being read and moved onto Revelations. 


	7. Chapter Six

**__**

Davasi reta luma. Septur lin alliso quentis. Darlaz comt a dinar élutra somulyh tuya rentyir. Sento maytella frangeri lumitera dertai. Asoni, frayer rentyre sley plya kyerlpa dkey memori delar, dalar. Ic temyre ren, ic temyre ren, ic temyre ren. 

"It takes three," muttered David, as he walked out of the church, unsatisfied and greatly annoyed that the old man still had the upper-hand; at least for a while. He looked up at the sky and muttered again, frightening those who wished not to hear him. Past the ritzy hotels and skyscrapers, he looked and saw nothing that would ease his pain: no hope, for the life he once knew and loved so dearly. A bus rolled by as schoolchildren were being shoved off to another boring day at the local art museum, learning the tastes that no longer filled the air with culture and class. A boy sitting by the back window stuck his tongue out and David returned it pleasantly with his glowing eyes. The boy sat down and David turned away to walk back to his apartment in the sky, where only the planes could greet him "morning". 

Admatha waited impatiently, her eyes scanning the room over and over again. "He's late" she muttered loudly, looking to see if Sano had heard. "Why is he late?"

Sano, who was sitting on a leather armchair, cheerfully replied that David's close relationship with the local priest was more important than a meeting with her. He ducked in time before the lapis blue sculpture hit his head. "Sorry," he replied, "but that is the truth. The priest and he go 'way back' and it is only appropriate for David to warn him about the coming plan. Chivalry and all. It never did die in him." He watched Admatha stand up and begin pacing. "Oh, no! Not this again. If you continue to do this then the nice, fluffy carpet will be long gone."

She narrowed her eyes and growled under her breath. "Are you ordering me around, Sano? Do you dare to mock the one who has made you right-hand man?"

"Of course not, Admatha. I just want you to relax a bit more. Everything is going so smoothly and all. It would be a shame if you wasted all your energy by worrying." He slicked his hair back and watched with mischievous eyes as Admatha sat down again, her body moving with nervousness and anxiety. "About Jael…I was wondering if perhaps you could find it in your—"

Admatha scoffed and choked back laughter. "Her name is Idbash, and no. I do not find it in my heart. Besides, you ask the wrong one." She stood up and brushed herself off very quickly, surprising Sano. "He is here. The elevator just opened."

David sighed heavily, not wanting to bear any more urgent news. He had felt her as soon as he had entered the building and she most likely felt him long before that. The front desk welcomed him back, while other top-notch executives smiled and signaled their pleased spirits; they all liked and fully enjoyed his presence there. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the upward button. It _dinged_, and pulled him towards home where he knew horrible news awaited him.

Silver struggled against her bonds but the Silksters eyed her as delicious prey, with equally delicious warm blood to drink. The pregnant female nestled down in the farthest corner; she had finished making her nest for the young ones and now all she had to do was wait. Her clan backed away, afraid that the new mother would use them as feeding grounds for her infants. Silver continued to struggle, pulling at the ropes that held her down. She knew she was being watched by another girl, who hid in the shadows, petting one of "pets" and soothing the mother with promises of food and drink. "Let me go!" she screamed, hoping that the urgency in her voice would bring out some form of mercy and compassion. "LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT ANY PART OF THIS!" 

"TOO BAD!" screamed Idbash, her voice rising over Silver's rather easily. "It just too fucking bad." She pushed her dark hair back and sighed. "If your mother hadn't gotten away from us in the first place, you, dear, would not be here to witness the event of a lifetime." Grabbing Silver's face, Idbash noticed the wounds healing, caked blood around her ear and mouth. "He really did a number on ya; any place left untouched?" 

"No. Nothing." Silver glanced at the floor and felt another Silkster behind her, saliva dripping down to the floor and splashing upward. "Get it away from me." 

"Aw-w-w-w, he likes you." Idbash smirked, but made the Silkster move away. "He never attaches himself to a meal that quickly, but then again who can tell." Gracefully, she moved out of the light and waited in the shadows. "Just sit still Silver. It will be over before you know it." 

"What will? What do you freaks want with me?" 

David entered his room and noticed Sano, wielding a dagger and practicing slight movements with it. "Too slow on form, Sano and a quicker wrist reaction." He smirked as Sano placed his weapon away and scowled. "It is nice to see you again---how long has it been now? 20 years, 21 year ago?"

Sano growled loudly, his eyes reshaping themselves. "Bastard," he whispered as Admatha stepped out of the shadows. 

"Be calm Sano. We all want the same thing." She extended her hand and David took it. "David Johnson, the refine half-breed; how are you?"

"Depressed that the world had changed from art to modern crap. And yourself?"

"Delighted to have you onboard." She smiled pleasantly and took back her hand. "At least, that is what I hope you will consider." With a delicate wave of her hand over the find wooden dining room table, she produced a relatively small stack of papers. "Really, it is just for formalities and legal crap. Nothing too devastating and nothing too sneaky. Just sign on the dotted line." 

"Cheri, I would be honored to work with you, however, there is a minor problem." He pushed the papers back towards her and smiled ever so slightly in order to make a lasting impression on. "You see, I have already been hired by another client. Someone who is higher on the ladder of success if you get my drift. Much, much, much higher than you will ever be." 

The papers burned on the spot and David noticed the rage in Admatha's eyes. _You're a little too late, cheri. Only a little too late. Perhaps, next time I'll be interested._ David watched as Sano stood behind the full-blooded demon, ready to spring into action if need be. "No," she said forcefully. "We'll let him be. He made his mind before we even arrived. I should have know he was betray the cause." The table caught fire as did the curtains and the carpet was close to disintegrating in orange and bright yellow. "Demantu, seutela adit quient flaur dytia."

"Canto delma sule alout," he responded cheerfully as the fire surrounded him, "though I wish you would not take it out on my home." 

"Fuck your home, David. Besides, I thought you knew some one higher on the ladder of success."

Silver felt the blood dripping on the floor and knew that one of her wounds had re-opened. It cascaded from her forehead, down her eyes, and made it's ugly way to the tip of her chin until it had enough energy to take the final plunge towards the floor. Silksters hissed and snarled at each other, waiting to feast upon something. Five small bowls upon the mantle held dark liquid and next to them lay five candles; she had noticed earlier that one of the candles was much lower than the others, meaning that one had begun to melt before its time. Idbash hummed and muttered somewhere in the darkness, waiting for the right time.

__

The land before, a gift to thee

And now they die so slowly

Creatures came to look upon

The one who had done them wrong

Flowers came and plucked to die

The rain did fall, a mourning cry

And though I saw I could not stop

The earthly blood drip and drop

She shivered, listening to the half-demon's song, so hauntingly and unbearably true. 

__

She has come to make amens

Though her time has come to end

Angel child born of hope

Death is now what she must cope

Pain to travel to her soul

She has come, her eyes so bold

And now her spirit must be cleaned

Tell me, child how will you bleed?

Ariana Satine shook her head when her partner asked to be excused from the crime scene and rushed off to gag and vomit on the front lawn where old-time detectives stood watch. "Poor rookie," she muttered as she heard the other men taunt him. Her eyes were hardly surprised at the scene that lay before her: gray and beige/white matter covered the floor, while blood splattered only the white carpet. The victim was covered already by the body bag. A female drawn to the benefits of suicide; never having to deal with an uncaring world. The father sat in the master bedroom, his heart aching and yearning for clear and helpful answers. But she had none to give him that would help his broken heart and tortured soul. In the office room sat a girl named Tabitha Katherine Lynch, who seemed just as shocked as the father. To be awaken at two in the morning to help with the questioning process would be enough to freak anyone out. Her blue eyes held a powerfully hurt look and her ruffled hair only meant that she arrived quickly to get it over with and mourn in private. 

She entered carefully, her own sea-blue eyes scanning the girl up and down, making sure of how she handle the questions. The girl had already glared at her before, right as she was walking in, being led by an officer into the room. She had already shown some wildness about her, ripping her arm right out of the officer's grip without having time to react. So, Ariana knew that the questions would have to be level and calm. Spooking the girl might provoke the obvious rage. 

"Hello, Tabitha. How are you?"

The blonde-haired, red-streaked girl responded angrily. "How the hell do you think I'm doing?" 

This was going to be a long night. "How long have you known the victim?"

Tabitha muttered her answer in a low tone, leaving Ariana the option of either straining her ears or by asking her to repeat what she said. She chose the latter.

"I said," began Tabitha, very slowly and directly inferring that Ariana was stupid. "Her name is Ember. Respect her, thank you very much." Tabitha smirked quickly before her eyes watered up again.

"Fine. I can do that. But I need you to give me the information I need." Ariana wiped back a few strains of hair and looked more closely at the girl sitting in the chair, now realizing that the girl was angry at Ember, angry that she had left her. "I am sorry. I am sorry for your loss."

"What would know about loss?" snapped Tabitha, her tone more hurtful than she dared to bring up. 

But the words were there and Tabitha could not take them back, though she saw the same rage in Ariana's eyes that she felt. "Bitch," she hissed before slamming her fist on the wooden office desk. "I have felt losses. Suicides, murders, tortures, rapes, and cult affixations. If this is bad for you, try watching it everyday. I feel for everyone." Her eyes narrowed down before making her next decision. "Give her the same respect, Tabitha, there was a reason why she did it. It may not be the one we want, but it will be an explanation. It will be hers." With that she left the bad tempered girl to cool down. "I'll be back when you're ready."

Tabitha snarled. "FUCK YOU!"

"And the horse you rode in on," came the reply.

Silver stopped struggling. It was useless to and besides which, Idbash remained very watchful of her prey and made silent movements towards her when she began to act up. The wounds on her head stopped bleeding, which was incredibly fortunate for her. The ropes binding her loosened when she remain still and calm and peaceful; as though it was magic, as though her body could phase right through it. Oh, how she wished she remained at home for once! Idbash was over in the corner, petting one of the drooling creatures that mostly likely would have eaten her within an instant. "There has to be some way out," she mumbled her eyes constantly on Idbash and on the creature, which had begun to purr rather loudly. "What the fuck do they want with me?" 

Idbash turned suddenly and hissed. "Who's there?" Her dark hair whipped around and her eyes flashed wildly. "Who's there?" 

Silver shrugged as best she could, remaining perfectly calm. She did not want the otherworldly girl to be tempted to hurt her. Silver's eyes glanced over at the front entrance, guessing that whoever else was there would most likely want to kill her as well. "What have I gotten myself into?"

The Silksters got up and began to hiss and snarl in unison, aware of the other presence and greatly disturbed by it. A few walked over carefully to the center of the room, snapping madly about. Their large legs nimbly stepped over her, while a few drops of acid–like saliva fell beside her, nearly taking out a leg and arm. None of them felt like looking at the tried up girl who shrieked loudly. They only wanted to tear apart the intruder from limb to fresh blood stained limb. Sharp teeth hunted for the prey and soon they circled in on the exact spot. 

Idbash moved in closely, pushing her way through the large arachnids, hunting alongside them to find what they found. And she did. Up on the ceiling she found her, Amanaka, with a nervous grin on her face. "Well, well, well…look what came for a visit. Dear, dear, dear Amanaka, are you stuck in a tree?" Idbash laughed and let her eyes change to their brilliant golden, fox hue, anger rising. "What would a dear cat like yourself, being doing here, among the monsters of the dark?"

"I have orders," hissed Amanaka. "Where's Admatha?"

"Ah. I see. Another assassin sent to see if I'm doing my job, correct? You're probably the worst one I've seen so far. Even the arachnids caught wind of you very, very, very fast. I thought panthers were supposed to be quiet and stealthy. Or maybe your received your stupidness from your human mother?" 

Amanaka snarled. " And being three-fourths demon is such an accomplishment, right Jael?"

Idbash growled her teeth forming, white and dangerously. "At least I have my powers to rely on. You still use mortal weapons. They are weak, just like you. And you shall remain weak until I finally get the chance to kill you slowly."

Her opponent laughed, "Weakness. I have powered up since you last saw me. I have powered up greatly."


	8. Chapter Seven

**__**

The fiend with all his comrades

Fell then from heaven above,

Through as long as three nights and days.

The angels from heaven into hell;

And them all the Lord transformed to 

devils 

Because they his deed and word

Would not revere 

--The Fall of the Rebel Angels 

Silver watched the girl on the ceiling beams taunt the dark brown-haired Idbash, calling her despicable and despisable names, words that she had only heard when her mother was around. The girl was another _Demon_ and she looked like one too. Idbash kept her composure, keeping her total transformation under wraps, while Amanaka's pitch black hair and blue eyes changed to velvet fur and orange/amber eyes. She looked cat-like, very cat like and very powerful. But Idbash stayed where she was her teeth sharp and bite-full and eyes amber/yellow, ready and willing to attack, but with an uneasy smirk on her lips. Silver prayed for them to let her go unnoticed, as she felt the ropes becoming loose and powerless. Her arms felt freer and her lungs took in more air. The wounds on her body hurt, but her desire to flee was strong.

She tugged and pushed, everything was working for her. The ropes fell limply by her side and silently she took her leave, hoping that they would not be hurt if she left without saying goodbye. Her eyes watched as Amanaka flipped down and landed lightly on the floor, pushing Idbash out of the way and demanding her to explain Admatha's absence. "I came because she gave me an offer that no demon would ever want to refuse."

"You came to kill me," Idbash responded with good humor, "and I'm certain that she would permit you to do such a thing, if you remained alive, of course." She stood up quickly and vanished, an act only a fox would do. "And of course," she continued, her presence no longer seen, "you thought that I would be a pushover, with a backer like Admatha who wouldn't be a little cocky and over-confident?" She appeared quickly, her hand shooting out and catching Amanaka's windpipe. "Trouble is that I'm a much powerful than what I appear to be. Logically speaking a three-fourths demon has to be stronger than a half-demon." She squeezed a little and let Amanaka feel the air being caught off from the rest of her body. "Now how can you kill me, if you're already dead? Sort of hard, isn't it?" She let go and watched as the half-demon sunk to the floor, consuming air as quickly as she could. 

"You are such a coward Jael; always telling others that you were a half-demon. No wonder people hate us. Why do you do it?"

Idbash quickly kicked her opponent in the stomach and grinned sadistically. "Why Amanaka, I'm a fox. I love to work with the element of _surprise._" She turned on her heel and walked away, watching as Silver began to run, her feet hardly touching the ground. "Run away little girl…you'll be back to finish your part of this grand destiny." 

The Silksters stirred and hissed and began to follow, wanting to taste warm blood. After Silver they ran and leaped, their jaws snapping and saliva dripping to the floor, making noticeable holes as the acid ate away the cement. The pregnant female howled loudly, her nest complete and the day waiting coming to a conclusion. She wanted to run with them one last time, motherhood-free. But she could not. 

Raven drove into the night, her eyes focused on what she saw before her. Death, destruction, and oceans of body engulfing her entire body; mountains of bones cascading towards her; valleys of screams wanting to be heard. The radio played on; the song that filled the car was poetic and hauntingly real, the voice was longing, emotional, and terrified.

__

Save me

Take me to the place

Of shelter

Hide me in your embrace

Love me

Like you always knew you would

Heal me

Heal my soul the way you once could

My Dark Angel 

Fly me to the heavens

My Dark Angel

Give me eternal love

My Dark Angel

I'm holding on with one last breath

My Dark Angel

Don't let me plummet to my death 

__

Take me

Take me to another time

When you

You could send the chills up my spine

Give me

One more dying, trying chance

Teach me

Your seductive, enchanting dance

My Dark Angel 

Fly me to the heavens

My Dark Angel

Give me eternal love

My Dark Angel

I'm holding on with one last breath

My Dark Angel

Don't let me plummet to my death

Don't let me go

Don't let me go

My Dark Angel 

Fly me to the heavens

My Dark Angel

Give me eternal love

My Dark Angel

I'm holding on with one last breath

My Dark Angel

Don't let me plummet to my death

My Dark Angel 

Fly me to the heavens

My Dark Angel

Give me eternal love

My Dark Angel

I'm holding on with one last breath

My Dark Angel

Don't let me plummet to my death

Don't ever let me go

My 

Dark 

Angel

--(Papers of Poetry)

Kyle was asleep on the passenger seat, his head lay resting on the closed window. He had hardly spoken a word to her since they called the police to come to the crime scene; he believed in that they were doing the wrong thing, helping destiny rather than sabotaging it. He let a single tear slide down his cheek, a sign that he was indeed mourning; he was mourning very deeply. Ember, the girl with the gift of sight, was dead. The girl whose mother was once a woman named Sarah, the girl whose uncle was once a man named Job; the girl who would always be the love of Kyle's life was gone. Yes, he was mourning deeply and Raven knew it. 

The journey in the night was going to be long; they wished that Tabitha could have indeed joined them, but she was real. She was human. Her touch and emotions were all real, while Kyle and Raven tried so hard to fake what felt so foreign to them. And it was because she was real that she could not be thrown into the danger with them. 

Raven looked down just as her beeper went off, with a 911 message. The cell in the car was nearly running out of battery power. Fortunately, she did not need to use it. "Raven, it's Tabitha. Ember's dead. Come quickly. The cops are here and her father's not doing well, for a change. Where the hell are you and Kyle. I tried his house and he is not home. Come on guys. Get over here now!" 

Ariana dreaded going back into the room where Tabitha still remained. The girl just had an angry aura about her, there was just something so terrifying about Tabitha that made her skin crawl and her blood run icy cold. The blonde-haired detective watched as her partner walked up the porch steps, his face still green, but his spirits in better moods. In the background a few other cops chuckled and teased, but there was friendly humor in their voices. He gave Ariana a playful grin and entered the house a second time, relieved that the body was gone and the gray and white matter were wiped off the main wall. Blood still remained on the carpet, but his stomach remained at ease. But Ariana hardly looked like her usual cheerful self. Suicides were hard enough, but she was always able to pick herself up and entertained the thought that it was not her kid and if she ever became a parent, she would do a much better job of looking for all the signs. The happiest always held the darkest secrets; Ember was no exception. 

She shook her head, looking at the closed door that held Tabitha. "I really don't want to deal with her," she muttered under her breath. "She's too worked up."

Her partner sighed, understanding the situation. 

"She's wild, emotionally strung, and a back-talker. She can dish it out and take it too. Probably understood the lock-key Ember and situation first hand. She really hates the father, absolutely hates the father who is upstairs crying his heart out. And now I have to deal with her." Her sea-blue eyes looked back and wondered what Tabitha was thinking about. "Or it could be her way of dealing. A mourning soul, angry at the world." A strain of blonde hair touched her cheek ever so slightly and, in the mist of the horror around her, she giggled. "She reminds me of me when I was her age. And I too had my reasons for being angry. I still have my reasons."

Her partner shook his head and did not say a word; that was what she liked about him, he knew when to be quiet and just listen. "Do you think you should go in there with me?" 

His deep voice pierced her ears. "I think you should face your reflection head on."

"You think I should face her alone."

He smirked, his philosophical smirk, "A reflection is also your past. To get through her, perhaps you must finally conquer your own demons."

Amanaka stood up, though her stomach hurt, but her pride gave her an amount of strength untested. But she knew that she was no match. She was only a half-demon and her opponent was more; she truly did live up to her name as the Destruction Demon. Shaking her black hair back she watched as Idbash changed again: ears popped out and a long, majestic bushy tail emerged. Her eyes went from amber to golden and her dark hair began to turn to a dark autumn red. She receded her teeth a bit, only allowing small points to be seen, and her claws looked hardly dangerous. But there was a reason why she was such a legend, a reason why Admatha wanted her so badly for this case. 

Amanaka felt it necessary to change as well, seeing that Idbash perhaps wanted a real fight. Her own tail whipped around her body and her own rounded ears came out. But she let her teeth grown in larger and sharper; she always believed in intimidation. And besides, she owned electricity and her famous Fire and Ice technique; if she had to go down, Idbash was coming with her. 

Idbash moved quickly, her feet gliding along the floor. She had sensed that the Silksters had already captured the girl and were going to hold her captive until she came and took Silver away herself. So all her energy could be placed on the fight. Good, she was happy to comply with the request. She watched carefully as Amanaka began to shuffle a little, ready to move into a roundhouse kick first or a sidekick. She would have to be ready to leap over and drive her right jab into any vulnerable area. 

__

She had slipped up to soon and the knife slashed her arm straight down. She cried out loud and watched as her blood spilled upon the dirt floor, but the pain only made her stronger. She was what the lower demons feared. She vanished quickly into the air, watching the full-blooded lion demon take his precious time. He sniffed the air, catching only hints of her wild scent, judging the air and computing her next move. He misjudged her, mistaking her moves of coming from the right, when they clearly came from the left. She kicked him in the head and let him fall towards the blood stained floor, picking up her entire scent, distracting him with his need for food. Sure, they starved him and sure they beat him senselessly while the Others looked on. But this was about her survival; compassion meant weakness and she hated weakness. He fell and gathered up her blood, soaked in it from head to toe, just as she had predicted, but unfortunately for him, he was not a quitter. She would have let him go, bloody and bruised, all his pride fallen, his spirit gone and inside her. But he refused. So, she had to kill him. It was not anything personal; it was business. 

While he was down, she grabbed his long, golden main, pulled his head back and slashed away at his vulnerability. Then leaning down she licked and tasted the warmth and sensation he gave her. And he gave it so freely. It poured out of him; his soul, his heart, his life, his death, everything just poured out of him like there was no tomorrow. And quite honestly, there was no tomorrow for her; there was a forever. 

Leo was dead and quite frankly, she was happy about that. He was always the one to challenge her, even when he lose; always popping when he did not need to, always taking his chances with her, forcing her to submit to his wishes. How much he loved to spar with her; how much, he truly loved her. 

She loved him. She loved him deeply. She loved him so deeply that she put him out of his misery herself, before they tore into the body and desecrated it beyond recognition. She owed him everything. She owed him this. 

They looked at her, well pleased with her performance. It was true. She was the Destruction Demon, willing to kill those who stood in her way of total glory! Almost willing. Her heart wondered if being with her was the best thing. After all, her reputation stated that she had no heart. And she killed her love to prove it. They loved her for it, signed her up to become a full-fledged assassin. She accepted. What was the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. She was going to be glue to them. 

Admatha looked down from her pedestal, grinning from ear to ear. She always looked young for her age and that night was no exception. Her white/blonde, pristine hair glowed and her eyes, pale blue shined like the moon. Her voice was sweet like honey and flowed like water. But everything else about her reeked of lies and deceit. It was a putrid smell that filled the room, but the rest of her company smelled like her. It made her slightly sick to her stomach, but not enough to where she would show weakness; after all, she hated, hated, hated weakness. Admatha smirked at her, interested in a new investment. She easily studied her, inside and out; Idbash felt her inside her head, walking around in it, exploring openings of her mind. Idbash was able to block love, honor, and compassion, but killing and violence were another thing. Admatha made herself feel right at home, testing her strength and making her feel incredible amounts of pain. She withstood the assault and let it pass through her; pain would make her stronger. Everything was satisfactory for her. Admatha's eyes could see everything about her and what she learned was that she had a wonder new investment. 

Idbash narrowed her eyes and looked Admatha too, but not with the same passion. She only did what she was told and laid low. Her own personal inspection would come at the price of patience, a trait that never suited her well. 

Admatha made quick hand motions to the manager of the area and asked him in a low voice if she was sold to any other offer, and the manager shook his head. Strike one against, Idbash; she then asked what her age was, a strike two. Strike three when he offered a demonstration of her powers, her full powers. Admatha readily agreed and Idbash could only nod. 

"The one and only Destruction Demon," said a very happy investor. "And she's all mine. I hope the legends prove true, yes indeed. The one who was able to give birth of the Black Plague surely is not a force to be reckoned with."

The manager nodded, a mortal man of sheer greed. 

Idbash watched as they pulled Leo towards the furnace, greedily excited to smell burnt Demon flesh. It was the best way to secure that the Demon would not come back. But survival would always be the most important need of all; even before love. 

Amanaka stood, waiting patiently while Idbash took it upon herself to pose in a more relaxed stance. She pulled out a long hunting knife, letting it gleam under the light of her eyes. Idbash leaped upward, her eyes watching Amanaka's every move as she charged forward. Slashing and striking, Idbash dodged every move that Amanaka made, but her timing was only given an advantage by luck. She miscalculated Amanaka's powers and determination. Each strike was getting closer to cutting flesh and bone. "Come on _Jael_, I gave you fair warning!" Amanaka snarled, her knife gleaming more furiously as the battle between the two raged on and on. Her panther speed was keeping up with Idbash's fox-like reflexes and her intelligence almost matched Idbash's cleverness. _She had indeed powered up greatly_. Her blue eyes flashed and her smirk showed her confidence exuding out of every pore. Her attacks were getting faster and faster; Idbash had definite competition. 

__

So, Admatha wants to play rough, does she? Then I'll play her little game.

Amanaka drove the blade down, slicing Idbash's arm. Blood fell, dripping slowly at first, then steadily. The victory laugh was loud and dominating; the panther demon had good reason to be pleased with herself. She watched as the fox demon stopped to catch a breath and dodge her next slash, but the arm was beginning to hurt greatly. She could see it in Idbash's green eyes. Victory was close at hand. The black haired, fiery-eyed demoness moved in, leaping over her opponent' s head and plummeting straight down with the blade now shining in its own unearthly light. With the force of a freight train, Amanaka drove the knife into her opponent's . . .

__

No, it can't be, thought Amanaka.

The blade stopped in mid air, only touching the skin from her opponent's hands. Idbash caught the blade, which was so close to drive bombing her beating heart. "I told you I was stronger," she hissed quietly, her eyes boring into Amanaka's own surprised ones. "Next time you'll listen." Her eyes glowed and suddenly, she broke the blade with her bare hands, pieces rained upon the ground. "Next time you'll listen." 

Amanaka let go of the handle and shuffled back horrified that _she _miscalculated Idbash's strength and intelligence. "How did you…?" 

Idbash smirked and her eyes narrowed themselves. "You never did give me enough credit, Amanaka; even now, I prove myself more than a match for you and still you believe that you can win. The only power you have left is your Fire and Ice method. But, the drawback from that attack is that it effects you as well. And to use it on me would mean that you are more than willing to commit suicide. Pity, pity, pity." 

"It's a chance I'm willing to make," snarled Amanaka, who leaped into the air and began to concentrate on her electrical attacks. 'I'm tired of being nice to you, Idbash. Now, I shall show you my real power!"

"NOT IN HERE!"

Both girls turned around and saw a very peeved Admatha, dressed in white and glory. Sano stood behind her, watching happily the two demons fighting and grinning at the fact that Idbash was there. He was disappointed when she returned his look of delight with a look of death. Admatha glided over towards the mantle where the candles lay and took them down; the bowls of blood from Silver were filled and sloshing around. Everything was in order. Pushing her white/blonde hair back, she barked out instructions to Sano and Idbash, leaving Amanaka to watch in a rageful distance. Prayers had to be chanted, words of old had to be spoken and the floor had to painted in the blood of the one who betrayed and killed her ancestors. The Silksters brought Silver back, herding her towards the chair where she would sit and watch, and be watched by Amanaka. 

Idbash dipped her slender finger into the blood and began to draw on the floor, while Sano went into the library portion of the building to locate the book of chants and prayers. Admatha growled at Amanaka, who threw up her hands in confusion. Silver cringed and whimpered to herself, as a Silkster opened up its wide, gaping mouth to reveal its two large canines and three rows of teeth behind them. It hissed and snapped fiercely. 

Admatha glanced around the room and sighed. It was time. The moon was red and the child was here. The old monk had spoken the truth. He Who Walks Behind the Rows was about to witness the rebirth of his most loyal followers. Isaac, Micah, Eli, Josiah, and Ezekiel were going to have their second chance at fame. The infidels will burn at her fingertips, while the blind sheep called children will march across the earth, destroying the good and building the empire for evil. Yes, it was time. 

Idbash finished, licking the blood off her. It tasted sweet. Silver cast her eyes downward and Sano looked more and more eager; things were going well. The symbol on the floor was well drawn, a simple cross inside a rather large pentagram pointing downward, as it should. Each candle was placed in its correct position; they each lay inside a point, with the lower candle in the point that faced South. Amanaka shook her head, disgusted and revolted by the show of it all. She had come so close to figuring out Idbash's determination and striking it. Admatha poured the bowls of blood unto the candles until each and every one of them was lit and glowing. Sano and Idbash backed away, while Admatha flipped open the book to the correct page and began to speak:

__

Tamis etella tunan mikeu quopte allila theine dalpand keute loenge aliet aldie dalar akei deotanla. 

Tonight, on the holiest of nights, we beseech the ancients to bring back to us the ones whose destinies have let to be fulfilled. We beseech the Nothing to bring back the ones who have been lost to us for so long. Tonight, we ask that they awaken to a new era of bloodshed and sacrifice, just as the days of old. For the Lord hath commanded it be so, for the Lord hath commanded it be so, for the Lord hath commanded it be so. 

Tela kien gleot alta kithaná leiren ind itnenlte aliren alotenen juetebe rentu inpolé jeyb et jadtej keytbe thewitb kobeteu notnye kornek girnye yotey kotnysbe alpne penune byebte cuetbe vunitbtye kpoenyeb noitney. Wiolt, lonidajle kiuent. 

Silver hung her head low. The wounds had reopened themselves yet again.

Tabitha dropped to the floor, pain shooting up her stomach and spine. She was not sure what was wrong with her, but she hoped that the detective would come back soon and see her to a hospital. It hurt like hell. That was it; it hurt like hell. She let out a moan and curled up; fire hit her body like a wave and sweat poured off her brow. "Fuck," she whispered. Something in her body was not happy, scratching at her from the inside to free itself. More pain hit her and a louder moan escaped her lips. The detective came in and placed a cool hand on her forehead, and suddenly, the pain was gone. All gone; Tabitha got up slowly and looked Ariana in the eyes. "I'm going home, _now_."

__

Raven swerved the car around, feeling an intense pressure on her stomach and spine. The car just barely hit an oncoming car. Kyle woke up, grabbed the wheel and led the car straight into a ditch. "What the hell were you thinking!" he screamed, hardly noticing Raven's pain. "You could have gotten us both killed before we got there!" 

Raven moaned loudly, her heart beating hard and fast. Visions and images rushed around in her head, back and forth. Death, destruction, blood, heat, flames, victims, lots of victims, millions of victims, butchering, carving, and slicing. It all entered her mind. She opened the car door, leaned over, and threw up bubbling bile. Kyle hit his head on the dashboard. "I get it now," he muttered. "It started."

A short boy with a crowned hat smiled and walked out of the fields of Gatlin. His feet hardly made a sound as they touched the dirt. He made his way towards the diner and smirked with satisfaction as he noticed that no one was there to greet his return. But he was saddened by a simple fact: his hand was not gripping a deadly scythe, with the metal gleaming underneath the blood red moon. 


	9. Chapter Eight

**__**

You wanna fall in love with him

But he always looks right past you

You wanna make him see your eyes

But he's always looking for pleasurable lies

Don't let him tear you down

He's not worth your time

Just plant your feet on the ground

Just ignore his smoothly given lines

Make yourself turn around

He is only planning his next big crime

He is not your type

You wanna make him leave with you

During all the commotion when no one cares

You wanna be the one he'll keep inside

Don't fall too hard when you drop out of the sky

Oh, heed the advice of others, pretty please

Will you listen to him or me?

I am only here to give you all the strength you need

Tell me, how does it feel when he makes you bleed?

Don't let him tear you down

He's not worth your time

Just plant your feet on the ground

Just ignore his smoothly given lines

Make yourself turn around

He is only planning his next big crime

He is not your type

Don't let him tear you down

He's not worth your time

Just plant your feet on the ground

Just ignore his smoothly given lines

Make yourself turn around

He is only planning his next big crime

He is not your type

He is not your type

He is not your type

He is not your type

--Papers of Poetry (He is Not Your Type)

Jenny Estarte grabbed the microphone and took a deep breath. At only 16, she had discovered the use of Open Mike Night. It was such a great escape the hectic world of high school and homework and parents. Hardly anyone showed on Thursday nights with the exception of talent-less acts of folk songs and pop goodies of the week. Here, in Club Run-Down, where only the outcasts of high school went to play when darkness fell and shadow hid the emotions of the physically torn did she sing. 

__

Don't say a word, Boy

Don't tell me another speech

You've been gone for way too long

And now, you're not mine to keep

The shame

Don't speak on the phone

Don't talk to me like I'm a child

You're always the one who's been in control

And now, I just want my life

Back

You tore me apart

And never said, "I'm sorry"

You broke my heart

Into millions of tiny pieces

Why do you always think

That it is only your right

To make this relationship sink

Well, now I'm the one saying "Goodbye"

Tonight

Don't kiss my lips

When you think I'm too dumb

To ask where yours have been

I am not having any fun

Anymore

You tore me apart

And never said, "I'm sorry"

You broke my heart

Into millions of tiny pieces

Why do you always think

That it is only your right

To make this relationship sink

Well, now I'm the one saying "Goodbye"

Tonight

Why dso you always think

That it is only your right

To make this relationship sink

Well, now I'm the one saying "Goodbye"

Tonight

Oh yes, tonight

She set the microphone down after the bass from the stereo system concluded and went to sit back down; not before tripping and stumbling her way towards her seat. Though her voice had a husky, enchanting quality, her feet and gracefulness always brought her back to reality. She was only a high school girl and for the time being that was all she was allowed to be. 

Outside stood Leah Mason whose hazel eyes sparkled with very light touches of sky blue; she smiled warmly as Jenny stumbled out, losing a shoe in the process. She flipped her long, brown hair back and winked flirtatiously at the bewildered cutie standing in line for a soda. "I love my charm," she whispered as Jenny walked towards her. "And I love the way you dress. Where does one get a single shoe now and days."

"Oh, God!" The auburn haired singer glanced down and laughed. "Well, maybe it can become a new trend."

Leah simply shook her head and began to walk away; very, very amused. The slender 5'7" girl walked with confidence and composed herself so well around guys that it seemed she could have mistaken for a goddess. Every move was filled with utter fluidity and style; heads turned twice to take a single peek at the browned haired beauty. "That is why I love you, Jenny. You're so normal!"

Jenny smiled brilliantly, a trademark since the removal of her braces. "Normal! I'm tired of being normal. Now I want to live and be loved and adored by millions. I want what you have, Leah!" She twirled around on the foot that held the shoe. "I want to be exactly like you."

"No. You don't want to be like me. If you were, you would want to be you again. The one with the voice and the normal life and the parents who love you. That's what you want. Deep down inside, you know it's true." Her eyes gave nothing away; all that was pent up, stayed inside. "Wanna go retrieve your other half?'

Jenny smirked. "Yeah, I guess I should. After all, this one would be too lonely." 

Hemmingford was in deep trouble. 

As the corn swayed frantically, the devil was reborn and angrier than before. His ink black eyes scanned the area, which had become bigger and more profitable than before. As far he could tell, this only meant that more people would die, never really satisfying his insatiable hunger for blood and dead, rotting flesh. The dirt on his body needed to be wiped away and his torn black shirt had to be replaced. He left the yellow mantle in the ground. Yellow would not make a good impression on those he planned to meet that night. Pale skin showed through the black shirt, almost glowing with radiant light; he could have been the moon. The town was asleep and unaware that its worst nightmare awoke; new followers to the cause slept soundly, which they would soon need. Energy would not be plentiful as soon as he regained his former glory. 

He walked towards town, feeling that rush he had missed so much. That rush when he knew people, infidels and unbelievers, would die in his mighty grip. His missed that rush. 

The devil moved forward, hardly noticing the second sound of steps coming his way. The sound another devil was making. Another black-hearted devil like himself. Micah Balding could have cared less at the moment though. He was aiming to stain his hands with the blood of adults and those children who refused to bend their will to the cause. And Isaac Chroner was of no concern. He might have been a concern if he had noticed that Isaac was carrying a rather large scythe aimed at his torso. But that would have meant that he had to turn around. He did not want to.

Isaac stalked his prey quietly, moving in the shadows and watching with great attention at the way Micah moved. If he missed, Micah would move too quickly and hide elsewhere, leaving he no other choice but to chase after him and corner the prey. That would take too much energy; more than what he was willing to spare at the moment. 

So, they both moved, hunting different prey and wondering if they would be caught; and if they were, they would just have to kill the one who noticed first. Slowly they moved, darkness welcoming them both back, hiding their profiles from the view of aged eyes. Micah walked over to where he remembered the storage shed sat; all his old instruments of destruction had remained there for too long. Isaac could only follow, the town of Hemmingford being a foreign land to him. Gatlin was deserted, the buildings crumbled by his glance alone. A few stray children remained, but he felt no reason to make them give him a welcome home party. But Hemmingford had repopulated rather quickly and he was pleased. He was even more pleased to discover Micah, alive; he had been a great disappointment. Never should he have become the second leader. Never.

The night was full of silence. Silence both leaders welcomed with open arms. But still they each yearned for the silence to be broken, by the sounds of dying infidels and blasphemous adults. So together they stalked, each looking at different victims but both wanting the same result. 

Blood on their hands. 

The warehouse looked exactly the same, only the fields that he had once planted there had been torn and pulled. The ground cried out for water and nourishment, but he had none to give. He tipped his black crowned hat in respect, lightly dusted himself off, and made his way towards the exit. The Old Bible was no longer needed for the children he sought to convert already knew enough of the old ways; Isaac and Micah would be at Hemmingford, but he planned on meeting them on sacred ground. Eli Porter wanted to reunite them all to Gatlin. 

He recalled his place of residence very well and was glad to learn that it remained uninhibited; "As it should," he mumbled. "As it shall always be." The streets were damp from the recent drizzle of rain and he found it interesting that few boys were planning a late-night escapade on the house he once called home. "Don't children ever grow up?" he asked himself as one of the larger boys broke through the back window and opened the back door with ease. His eyes peered inside and noticed mounds of cobwebs adorning the place and large dust particles settling down into an armchair, end table, or lampshade. The intruders had all walked in single file, each holding a pillowcase, a flashlight, and one even held a talking board; they attempted to remain quiet and discreet but their lack of coordination made them easy targets or this case easy followers. "And let them face the risen prophet, the one who was given the powers to show them their evil ways and herd them into a new life full of promise and meaning. And they listened as they hid their face for the prophet's power was too much and they had yet to become true followers of the word." 

A cockroach waltzed out of the wall, crawling lightly in search of food. Or it had sensed its master. Either way, it remained unaware of the large shoe that came crashing down, breaking its exterior shell and its soft insides. He stood there as the boys continued to follow in suit and growled under his breath. It was disgraceful to watch his own, die at the hands of boys who knew nothing of their actions. He began to grind his teeth and thought of what would be the best way to punish the stupidity of their actions. 

The silo, the flames, the burning sensations had left his ashes. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the top and quickly began to gulp down as much air as he could. His eyes scanned as his hands felt the expansion of his lungs and his chest rise and fall like the ocean tides. It became easier and easier to move and realize that he was indeed alive and indeed well enough to stand. But his exit remained up high and out of reach. But Ezekiel simply grinned at the thought of starting over and beginning a new chapter of his legacy. However, he first had to get out.

Josiah leaned over and puked out the remaining mercury that had invaded his lungs and pores. His stomach hurt and his head was spinning at a dizzying rate. The tomb that had encased him no longer seemed to tear him down; the mercury no longer effected his body except when he found himself puking up more. The diseased body he had was forcing all the toxins out of his body; hands held up his body, while his face dripped in sweat. Nightmares he had while lying in his tomb would not leave as easily as the toxins; pain of being abandoned and unloved scorched his soul heat. But he could not worry about that. He had been called back into the line of duty by He Who Walks Behind the Rows. He could not afford to fail again. 

Leah and Jenny walked down towards the awaiting taxi when Leah found herself reeling in excruciating pain; it ripped through her abdomen and forced its way up towards her beating heart. "Oh my God," she moaned as Jenny knelt down and began to ask random questions about her health. "He's back. What is he doing back?"

Jenny shook her head. "What's wrong, Leah? Whose back? What are you babbling on about? Do you need to go to a hospital?" She pushed her red hair back and sighed loudly. "The taxi is waiting; should we go to the hospital?"

Leah crouched down even further and moaned again. "Jenny, I-l-l-l-l be alright? Just get me home." 

Jenny nodded and proceeded to help her friend into the running cab. _Eli, can't be back,_ thought Leah as Jenny very loudly gave out orders_, please don't let him be back. Eli can't find her yet. She has to remain hidden until the time is right. It is not the time. Eli, don't kill them yet. It is not time; go to where He calls you. Eli, please don't kill them yet._

There, another stab of pain ran through her blood. She moaned even louder this time. _Eli, leave them be. Please, just leave them be. _Another stab of pain raced through her veins. _ELI! STOP THIS! THE BLOOD IS TOO MUCH, THE PAIN AND BLOOD ARE TOO MUCH! STOP STRIKING THEM DOWN! STOP STRIKING THEM DOWN. IT IS NOT THE TIME; ELI, YOU CAN HEAR ME! GO BACK TO GATLIN AND AWAIT FURTHER ORDERS. THE OTHERS ARE MAKING THEIR WAY BACK. HEAR HIM CALLING YOU. ELI! ENOUGH! ENOUGH! THE LIMP AND BROKEN BODY CAN NO LONGER FEEL YOUR ANGER. THEY ALL CAN NO LONGER FEEL YOUR WRATH! _She sighed as the pain from her stomach and heart subsided. _They are gone. Eli, they are gone._

Jenny sighed with relief as Leah straightened herself out. "What the hell was that about?"

Leah smiled at the girl she always felt deserved the name sister. "Bad food?"


	10. Chapter Nine

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, each and every one of them are truly appreciated. I guess you're all awaiting the choices of who will live or die. (Even I don't know. Scary, hub?). Well, here is the next chapter. Enjoy! ****

Amanaka backed herself into a darkened corner and watched as Sano and Idbash were given orders to locate the newly risen leaders. She smirked evilly and watched as Idbash wiped her brow revealing slight smear of blood on the pale skin. Admatha paused slightly and motioned for Idbash to stalk over to the corner where she hid; but Amanaka only had to flee towards the doorway where she had entered and make her way towards the one she knew would win.

Idbash watched with her fox eyes as her opponent slipped away into the night and under her breath she simply spoke about the nothing devouring the souls of the world. Sano shrugged and turned his back on her, while Admatha narrowed her eyes at the one whom she had hired to assassinate her right-hand demon. She too turned her back on Idbash, sparks of electricity ran through her entire body. Lightning flashed in her pale blue eyes. Her blonde/white hair billowed out behind her. Idbash stayed away. Betrayal was all too common. 

Eli looked upon the carnage, contempt reigning over his beautiful face. With his own hands he brought death to them all; to some swiftly, to the others a lingering end. The smile that played upon his lips could not be fully formed, but it mattered very little to him. It was the feeling of bringing the ultimate end to life that lifted him to the highest peaks. He missed it greatly. Years inside a tomb, stifling his potential and need left him feeling anxious. But with his newly bloodstained hands, he felt it was all worth the wait. They dripped and splashed upon the floor, spreading to find others just like them. When they all fell to the floor like rain, he wiped his clean hands on his pants, brushing off the dirt that continued to cling to him. His eyes glanced over at the kitchen where he recalled his bother and he eating together with the Porters, the same brother who buried their bond in the underworld of flames. A body lay broken on the table, vulnerable to the hungry insects that came out to feast. Slowly they crawled past Eli, towards the bodies; their jaws snapped in the open air until they tasted sweet, sweet flesh and bone. 

"Happy to be home," spoke a soft voice. "I figured this would be best. Before you begin your warfare on the others." 

He turned around quickly, scattering a few cockroaches. 

The owner of the voice walked up to him and touched his cheek, commenting on his appearance. "You should get cleaned up. Or else, she won't be pleased. Well, she will and she won't. You understand don't you?"

He shook his head. 

"Men," the voice huffed. "Always clueless when it comes to appearance. Well, she's expecting you soon. Time is nearly up. Well, get going. You know where everything is. GO."

He hardly moved.

The owner of the voice pushed him towards the stairs. "I don't have time for your nonsense and you don't have time to be pulling this with me. Go now, or forget any reunion."

He grabbed the voice's arm. "Do you always speak in riddles or will you answer me with an introduction?"

"I shall only answer you when you have done what I have instructed of you. Remember, she has been waiting longer than I."

Eli held on longer and tighter. "Tell me; who is she?"

The voice held a smirk. "She won't be please if you aren't clean, Eli. Nor will she be happy when she learns of your forgetfulness." 

He pushed his light brown, slightly spotted hair back. Sweat dripped downward, trickling past his six-pack abdomen, until they reached his sweat pants. His naturally golden eyes scanned the room, waiting patiently for the attack to strike. A sharp sound resounding through the wooden, windowless room; the ceiling beams were both large and small, but never weak. The clawed foot stepped lightly on the beams, but it slipped and that was helpful to the one on the ground. Evan glided up to the top and attacked quickly, taking his opponent from behind and snapping his neck within seconds. As the Leopard fell out of his tree, Evan lifted himself up with his spotted wings in victory. There was just something about defeating a full-blooded demon that brought him to a euphoria, a nirvana, a heaven delight. His bronze skin was drenched in sweat, but that hardly bothered him; the door to his left opened and slowly, Amanaka stepped inside. She was breathing heavily as though she had been chased; but with ease, she sidestepped the dead demon and made her way towards Evan's awaiting arms. She pushed him away, a serious expression on her face. He frowned a bit. 

"What's up?"

She bit her lower lip and simply showed him a few of her wounds she had received earlier. "Admatha's doing. Idbash's power. Which would you rather hear?" 

"Well, did you finish her off?"

"What the hell do you think?" She turned her face away from him.

He sighed. "Well, maybe we can fix that," he said, taking her hand within his own and placing it on his chest. 

She scoffed and pushed him away. "Not now. This is serious. I have to kill her and I have to kill her now. I have to kill the disgrace I feel."

"You can easily kill her, you just lack the experience she has gained. But I can easily remedy that."

"How," she asked, her blue eyes staring him in the eyes. "How can you promise me such things. How can you deliver me this goal?"

"I'm powerful, dear. I'm very powerful."

Eli let the shower's water cascade down his body, washing away the grim and fiery memories of his hell. The soap had lathered up and its faint scent lifted him up. All of his questions faded away with the steam that attacked the large mirror and stayed there, destroying the reflections that lived there. His guide waited for him outside, tapping impatiently; but he did not care, it felt so good to have the pounding water hit his body, the warmth of the water caressing the pain that would not fade with time. 

"Come now! You're clean!"

Eli smirked and turned water dial towards the left, letting it heat up even more. 

"Eli, you're fooling no one."

The temperature of the water was raised again.

"Eli, get out here. She will not be pleased if you spend the rest of your life in a shower. You'll become a prune." 

The temperature of the water was raised again.

"Eli, I swear, she will shall be angry if you do not show on time. Come out to the world that has yet to fall to your every whim and worship your every desire." The voice waited. And waited; and waited. " She is not going to be please, Eli."

He hardly heard a word. 

And the temperature of the water was raised again.

Raven and Kyle stepped out of the car, both feeling the overwhelming power to tear their flesh apart and make themselves new and whole. The corn swayed slowly in the dead night; but the blood the ground drank up, was beginning to overflow. Raven looked down as her shoe made a squishy sound. The fields were alive and Kyle hardly needed to grace his hand over the soft, leathery leaves. They remembered his touch from long ago and bent downward without being told. The car died easily and other cars passed by without a passing glance, leaving both former souls to stand and watch their sins be reenacted again and again. Kyle slowly looked up towards the sky and heard the distant thunder before it reached its final destination; Raven simply dropped to the dirt and touched the wet earth between her slender fingers, feeling the dead touch her back. She lifted the dirt up to her face where bony, decaying fingers caressed her cold flesh in hopes to show their sympathy for the wounded figure. The headlights of passerbys went right through the both of them, the pale figures of the past. 

Micah went through sleeping Hemmingford, creeping along in the dark, reminiscing how the town betrayed the cause, how his friend easily killed him. His ink black eyes looked into an open window and there he found a sleeping child; the boy was peaceful and innocent, the way he used to be. Micah wondered if the boy had nightmares of deceiving adults; their lies dripping from their mouths, their actions moving with painful mortality, and their eyes burning innocent ones into hell. He turned quickly on his heel and noticed another figure, wielding the power he held; only this figure was slightly smaller. 

A breeze swept between the two.

Isaac stopped his stalking and stared deeply into his opponent's eyes. He noticed that his rival carried no weapon, nothing that could be deemed harmful. The corn rustled in the busy night, but both combatants only heard and saw each other. He watched as Micah turned his head to look back at the sleeping boy, being the sentimental guy he was. There was something in Micah that made Isaac realize that he would not be an easy opponent; an aura of longing was building up in Micah, whereas Isaac hated the world of the adults, Micah wished to be long in his own, peaceful society. He lacked parents and he longed to have what he was never given. 

A breeze swept between the two. 

Micah stood firmly and watched as Isaac gathered all of his energy, preparing; preparing for war. 

Idbash stood on the roof and watched the two intently, wondering if this plan was a good idea, but she was in no position to state an opinion. She was there to do a job. The two former leaders could not kill each other during this night and she had to make sure of that; they had another planned night. Silently, she leaped downward, hardly wishing to disturb the two combatants, but knowing that if she did not interfere, her master would be angry and inflict painful remembrances as to why disobedience was a sin. Isaac took a single step forward and Micah simply stood his ground, but he was ready to move when the need became apparent. She stepped in, the blackness still covering her entirely, allowing neither leader to see the figure standing before them. Idbash waited and watched, waited and watched, waited and watched; her feet and muscles within her legs spring and lock into place. The blackness of Hemmingford covered the sins of its past, but could not covered the evil that was growing stronger with each passing second. Isaac and Micah both blinked at the same time, their eyes conveying their intentions: death to one of them. 

Jenny lay down on her bed and breathed in deeply. Her Discman played music but she hardly heard a note; instead her mind wander around, hunting for some truth behind Leah's apparent sickness. Something did not seem right at all for Leah's body jerked in such a way that seemed abnormal, as though it was forced by another shadow lurking figure. The bedsprings creaked as Jenny moved more towards her slightly open window; with hardly a thought, she turned off her Discman. The house was silent and still allowing for her to hear herself think for once. 

She had known Leah ever since she began the second grade; as the shy and quiet girl it was easy to see why she was picked on mercilessly by the others. What could she do? Cry? Complain? She did not have the courage to beat them back, she did not have the strength to stand up for herself because none were there to support or stand up for her. Until Leah showed up, the spunky little girl who could be ruthless and kind at once; she was a natural born leader who was both feared and admired. She took risks and dared others to join her. 

However, it was she that Leah took interest in. The shy and quiet girl who could do nothing more then hide herself from the world, underneath the crooked, abandoned tree that most regarded as an annoyance; just like her. But Leah took her and molded her into a stronger individual, teaching her to exude confidence and walk with power. It just seemed so unreal that someone with so much dominance would want to spend any time with a trembling being. 

The large grandfather clock at the end of the corridor ticked and tocked away the time. _Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…_ it continued it should have done all these years. 

Her eyes flew open and with a heart beating too fast for her chest, she realized that the ticks and tocks were not from her imagination. "Fuck," she muttered as she rolled out of bed, missing the slippers on the floor. The carpeted floor only creaked in certain places and Jenny made sure that she missed them all. The door was her biggest challenge, but after a few attempts and mutterings it opened and with success. Her feet touched the cold wood floor and by standing ever so still, she could feel the vibrations of the ominous ticks and tocks. The shadows cast upon the floor danced savagely as though they were trapped souls longing to be freed. A moan brushed past her ears and quickly she raised her hands to cover them; but it lingered in the air and whipped around her body. Her eyes scanned her arms, which had become warm and sticky; to her astonishment, her arms looked as though they had been dipped in blood, like an apple into caramel at a carnival. "What the hell?" she asked never noticing that the ticks and tocks were getting louder and louder, pulsating and straining to be heard over all the other distractions. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet the clock and with a loud "humph!" she was pushed back into her room and thrown against the bed. Her cries were trapped inside her throat and finally she succumbed to the darkness. But not before she heard a dry, angry voice whisper in her ear, "We're escaping."

Leah Mason let her eyes adjust themselves to the night, to the blackness and emptiness that surrounded her. She felt him inside her, swimming around in her thoughts, clinging onto her heart. Her eyes flickered against the moon's light and for a brief moment she could hear him. Noiselessly, she leapt off of her two-story house and landed silently on the grassy front lawn; a dog barked down the street though no one cared to hear it. Quickly she turned her head to see if anyone was up and looking out a window and to her comfort she saw nothing. So, through the streets she ran towards his essence, towards his longing. The house was locked from top to bottom and her so-called parents would fade under the illusion; soon people would accept the simple fact that the people who lived there had left on a long-term basis. A trip towards Europe, a cruise to the Bahamas, whatever lie they wanted to tell themselves was fine with her, as long as they did not come after her. The streetlights blinked casting her shadow with distortions that made her feel uneasy with herself, as though it was trying to expose her to the world of what she was. Onward she ran, onward towards Chicago. Onward to give her services to him. 

Tabitha pushed out the thoughts that her friend had committed suicide; it seemed, _no_, it felt impossible. Sure, she had her problems, sure Ember did not live a perfect life, but she was no way capable of killing herself. It just did not fit; there was a missing piece to the puzzle. Just like there was something wrong with Raven not calling her back. 

Ezekiel pulled himself out of the silo and as carefully as he could jumped out. He landed awkwardly making too much noise; he turned around and saw as a drunkard shambled over to him, his eyes wide in amazement. "Boy," he spoke with uneasiness, "boy, how did you get out?" The haggard looking hair was filled with dirt, as though he had been sleeping in the fields for some time. 

"Defiler," he spoke, a wicked grin spreading across his face, "thou shalt beg for forgiveness for defiling the fields with your unholy, _unnatural body_." He was still weak, but he was not weak enough to perform what had to be done. 


	11. Chapter Ten

****

A/N: Fellow Readers and Writers, if you have already read the newly up-dated summary for this story then I shall presume that you already understand what it means. If you haven't I shall proceed to explain with the least amount of spoilers. Each leader was killed due to the inconvenience of a third party, such as Micah and Danny/Garret. He Who Walks Behind the Rows, demands that they redeem their souls by killing the outlanders who sent them to their grave early. Okay, get it? Good. 

To Lain Coddington (I hope I got that right) thank you for the review and for adding me to your Fav. Authors; I appreciate it. The review helped me out a lot for this chapter and the next. Enjoy!

And finally to my dear _college, friend Amanaka_, here is the chapter you've desperately wanted to read. Hope its long enough for you!

Idbash stood in their way, angering both leaders who were ready and poised to destroy. Micah narrowed his eyes at the interfering demon; Isaac simply scoffed and let the rage continue to build up inside his tormented body. Fire could be seen in both their eyes. Idbash smiled at them both and raised her hands to both of them, an offering of peace. "Admatha is awaiting your arrival, gentlemen. Please step lively and board with care." Her eyes sparkled underneath the darkness and Isaac was the first to speak; though his spirit had aged and his soul hardened due to his trials in hell, his unique voice still stayed the same. 

"And just who are you?"

Idbash lowered her eyes and formed a sarcastic curtsey; he got the hint and growled lowly. Micah, on the other hand, stared at the brown-haired girl, his curiosity getting the better of him. She felt his eyes searching her, testing her. She quivered ever so slightly when his personal examination was over and his eyes finally peeled away from her body. "I'm Idbash, your personal guide," she answered when she felt permission had been granted. "I'm here to take you to Admatha."

Micah rebuked her answer; "We only follow the orders of He Who Walks Behind the Rows, not the orders of some _girl_." He simpered at himself, pleased with his snide retort. 

Idbash straightened herself out, her eyes flashing dangerously. To hear him speak to her with a tone that reflected arrogance repelled her in every way. To her, it was a sign of weakness, a sign that made him even less worthy in her eyes. She turned to face him, her eyes becoming their pure yellow color. "Unworthy boy," she snarled, her canines becoming jagged. 

Isaac stood away, watching the girl and Micah very carefully, wondering what power possessed the strange girl and why his predecessor was revived as well as he. He was stronger than him, for he was the first; it unnerved him that his master would allow Micah to return. Was it a test? A test to see if he was worthy of His Favor? 

Micah dodged the first jab from Idbash and caught her wrist when she attempted the second counter-strike. "Weakling," he teased, "just another weakling." She suddenly ducked underneath his body, twisted herself around, and threw the unsuspecting Micah onto the hard, dirt ground. He landed with an "_owff_" and stared at her with large, surprised eyes. She grinned and rested her foot on his chest, pressing most of her weight on him. "Try that again and I'll kill you myself." He stared, unblinking, at her. His dark, ink-black eyes danced with curiosity. "You have your warning; learn it, live it and love it," she sneered, stepping off of him. 

Tabitha Katherine Lynch grew impatient with waiting for a response by both Raven and Kyle; she decided it was time to take things into her own hands. The pain that had jabbed her stomach before came again and left quickly; she ran her hand through her blonde hair and sighed heavily. Raven was never this irresponsible before and instinctually felt that something was wrong. The eerie-ness crept up all over her; it gnawed at her heart and mind. And the phone stayed still, taunting her in the dark, mocking her need for it ring. It did.

Ariana immediately regretted calling the wild, child Tabitha, but she needed her input on the Cobalt case. Ariana felt the nagging, instinctive feeling loom over her and she needed a secure person to okay this suspicion she had. After three-to-four rings, she muttered a few incoherent swears and began to hang up, but the cold, calculating voice on the other end stopped her. "Raven?" asked the fiery, blonde. "Raven where the hell have you been? What the hell took you so long to answer?" Ariana coughed into the receiver and answered, "It's Detective Satine, Miss Lynch. I have to ask some questions about the late Ember Cobalt. If it's alright, I would like to speak to you…"

Tabitha cut off her, her voice holding a hint of sarcasm. "No, it isn't _alright_ _Detective_. Speaking with you is a waste of my, _precious time_." Her voice could cut through ice. Ariana tried again, this time turning the tables on the stubborn, valuable girl. "Your _help_ would be appreciated. If not your help, then perhaps you should call your attorney; in fact, I'd be more than willing to read you your Miranda Rights over the phone. Ready? You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…"

"You've got nothing on me." 

"I bet your mother would not appreciate you attitude towards the police. Now where was I? Oh yes; you have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be presented to you in the court of law. Do you understand these rights, Miss Lynch?"

"Fuck you." 

"_Do I take that as a yes?_"

She could hear a loud sigh of regret and remorse. "After the funeral, at the local park. Be there at four o' clock. My attorney _will be present. _Hope that's okay with you, Detective?"

"Fine with me. Hope he's real good." 

"She, you mean."

This caused Ariana to widen her eyes in surprise. "She?" she asked that flitty teenager.

Tabitha knew she had her there. "She, detective. She as in Mrs. Behrman. Attorney at law."

Ariana smirked, but her partner could see the fear in her eyes. "What is it," he mouthed at her. She mouthed back "Mrs. Behrman. The attorney." 

Tabitha waited for a response and to her own surprised her a muffled laugh. "So, you know a hot-shot. Big deal. I've dealt with them before. Tell her hello for me, will ya?" With that, the detective hung up. 

"Temi sa'ent likola welia gry dalio," stated David_,_ to no one in particular. The church was empty and he felt completely bored with the idea of moving back to Gatlin to finish what was started. "Come on out, old man. I can smell your fear!" he called. He slicked back his hair and continued to stare at the holy artifacts adorning the church and smiled to himself, wondering what the big deal was with all the useless stuff. "Don't they realize that this only bores Him?" he asked himself. 

"But it provided them with comfort."

"Old Fool!" greeted David, his eyes blazing with happiness. "Well, now my boredom has ceased! You shall be my entertainment. What game can we play now?" 

The priest raised his hand up to the excited demon. "I'm too old for games, David. I'm too old to lead the sheep." He gave the demon a weak smile and continued to walk down the isle. The stained glass brightened when he walked by and the pews breathed a sigh of relief when his aged hands touched them. He heard the silent demon move from behind, stalking him, playing his game anyway. The priest rested for a bit, knowing full well that this annoyed his demon friend greatly; not playing David's minds games was his only advantage in this lifetime. "What have you come here for David…surely, it isn't because Admatha, the Great One? Did she call you back into her services?" He waited for an answer and when he received none, he knew his words to ring true. "So…I read the signs correctly, did I? And you decided---" He paused for a moment letting his words sink in, "---against the idea of bringing the end of the world. How strange David! All these years that I have known you; I honestly never would have expected this from a demon whose sole goal was to own a nice piece of real estate…I'm impressed. Or is this a trap, David…lure the old man in and rip out his spleen when he isn't looking?" The priest placed his index finger towards his head, smirked and responded to his own question when David averted his eyes. "I know you too well David. Maybe that is what causes the both of us to be weak." 

David snarled. "I have no weaknesses Father. I live forever."

The priest shrugged his shoulders and made his way towards the altar. "Yes…as do I. We will re-play this scenario until He gets bored, David. It'll be scary for you once He finds that He no longer needs us…I know my place, but yours will be a real cooker." 

The demon shook his head and answered his fears. "I live _forever_. I live and you die. Then I have to wait 16 years for you to grow up. By then I'm dying for a real conversation. But those long, arduous years of waiting, it takes its toll on me…but then, you _save me Father_. _Isn't that what you're good at?_" He sneered out his last implication, knowing that it pained the priest to hear those words come out of his mouth. 

__

Ezekiel wandered around unaware of his surroundings. Being dead did have its perks. No longer did he have to lead, he could rest and watch other foolishly fail and beg for mercy when they deserved nothing. But he was resurrected before he could enjoy his vacation. That slightly ticked him off, but it was something that he could get over extremely quickly; as soon as more blood flowed through his fingers. Yes, then he would be extremely pleased. The corn swayed back and forth, joyous to see their previous master well. They beckoned for him to come closer and within the darkness, within the stalks he saw two pairs of orange eyes. And then he heard their sinister voices. "_Welcome_," they said, "_welcome back to your reign_." One was a distinct female voice that purred with intent; the other was harsher, a definite male. He peered and saw their distinct personalities; the female was obvious more wary then her companion, the male was the opposite and more daring. He questioned it as he felt he should. 

"Lord, is this a test?"

The owners of the eyes stepped out into the light, saw their master's horrified expression, then stole themselves away, back into the safety of the fields. "We are nothing more than servants to help you gain back your control. Nothing more and nothing less. We do as you ask. We always do what you ask. All except for one thing."

Ezekiel cocked his head in confusion. "What may I ask, would that request be?"

The female answered him, for her voice was beautiful than her face. "That we cannot say."

Ezekiel left it at that. 

Eli stepped out of the shower and toweled off, unaware that his guide was there in the same room, staring at the ceiling. "You know," she began, stopping as he let out a surprised gasp. "You really should have used a better interior designer. This paint color actually makes the bathroom look smaller…I mean come on, I would have seen this disaster coming from a mile away." Her eyes continued to stare at the ceiling; she was perfectly aware of what she was doing. "I'm not _l-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-ing_," she said in a singsong voice. "Not that I would really want to…probably nothing that impressive down there anyway." She did not need to see him to know that he was furious with her intrusion and her wayward comments. "I told you to hurry up…should have listened. Maybe that towel would have been wrapped around you at a faster rate." She smiled widely, soaking in her moment of glory as the baffled former leader stared at her wide-eyed, seething with the utmost hatred he could muster. Finally, she opened her mouth and said something that should have remained sealed off. "If you were the true leader, you would have seen this coming." 

Isaac stepped up to Idbash as carefully as he could, not wanting to provoke more hostilities. "Why are you here?" he asked, raising his hands above his head to show that no attacks upon him were necessary. Idbash smiled gratefully, stepping away from Micah who was already judging the demon, as a foe. She answered rather sweetly, her eyes staring deeply into his own. 

"I have come to take you to her…all five of you shall be presented to her in array of glory. Then she shall present to you, three single tasks. The first shall be to show her honor, the second to show yourselves honor, and finally to show the world honor. Strict, unwavering honor, mind you." She pushed her hair back, setting each strain into a specific place. "Admatha and He Who Walks Behind the Rows have been waiting for this moment, when his five failures come forth to accept His merciful Favor. Then kill each other in the battle of the century." Her eyes flashed when she said this. "Already, Ezekiel has met his half-demon helpers, Rayn and Cadawg, the mutilated demons of Earth. Eli is approaching his own, the fierce Leah and the mighty Davine. Isaac, you shall be presented with Murderous David and Bitter Amanaka, while Micah shall have the privilege of the Shifter Tabitha and Thunderous Cole, and Josiah will have the stealthy Shade and clever Ethan. The Silksters will clean up your bloodied messes along the way." She turned to Micah who had begun to understand what it was that she was telling him. She was offering them both and the others a chance to reign once again; she was telling them that they had a chance to show their Lord and Master what they _could _do. He had a chance to take back what was rightfully his. He had a chance to kill that bastard Danny. And his bitch, Lacey. 


	12. Chapter Eleven

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Author's Note…again:

Dear Readers and Reviewers,

This chapter will introduce the last characters that will be used in this fanfiction. As I have said before character submissions are closed, however, I have recently started a new fanfiction and, yes, I do need at least 5 new character profiles for it. More will be explained later on…but as for this story, it's over. My brain cannot cram anymore! I thank you all who have remained reading and thank you for your dedication. Enjoy the next chapter of _And the Wicked Shall Burn_. 

Raven McQueen looked at the fields and immediately thought back to the times when she killed for the pleasure of it. She remembered taking flight and plummeting downward towards those who she felt were inferior rats, just waiting to be picked off. She recalled how her claws would slash away the flesh on the throat, how life died before they hit the cold, uncaring earth. She was the Death Angel and Kyle was the Devil's Hound. Together wiped out the population over and over again; and still, Gatlin would find itself populated just a year after their massacring. No one knew; mail was slow and those who moved in felt that a plague wiped out the original takers of the land. They were a plague, a plague that continued to hunt down the defilers of the land, taking back what was rightfully theirs, killing those who refused to leave, and killing those who did. The hunt kept them in shape; killing those who left to settle elsewhere only caused more chaos, more talk. That kept them alive. And willing to do more. 

__

Kyle, The Devil's Hound, tore out the throat of the man who had begun to call out to the others, ordering them to make a stand and fight back. But it was hopeless; Kyle was ruthless and heeded to his natural instinct as a half-demon. The man went down and died before his body hit the cold earth. A shadow flew over Kyle and immediately he howled out, calling to his faithful friend. Raven, the half-demon with the black, sky covering wings, flew over and noticed the men coming out of their homes, ready to fight back with their pathetic, mortal weapons. Pitchforks were raised, torches were lit, and angry cries filled the night air. Raven plunged downward, claws extended, while Kyle bared his vicious teeth and tore into the vulnerable flesh of a man who held a scythe in his hand. He hardly had time to strike back, when Kyle bared his teeth and lunged for the arteries in the neck. Raven flew over heads, tearing one off in the process. It ripped with satisfaction; that sounded silenced most of the men in the crowd. Until their stomachs decided to get into the action; a few lost their dinners through the mouth, while most lost their dinners when Raven decided that she would gut most of her prey for the evening. Kyle always had a fondness for the throat; it was just his way, a calling card to all who dared to notice. The Devil's Hound bounded forward, tearing and ripping, killing and slaughtering. The Death Angel plunged over and over again, picking a few up and downing them down. She enjoyed this; their pitchforks could cut through her entire body, but she would not stop. Stopping was not an option. They invaded their land, their sacred land. This land belonged to the pure of heart and even they died when their uselessness faded. But it was much easier to order around the pure of heart, for their were ignorant and would not question motives. Raven and Kyle were happier with the old system. They obeyed their orders and killed off many. This brought them the greatest amount of pleasure, a euphoria. This was their life, this was them. This was their way and this was their duty. Nothing could deter them from their calling. They were given life and this was how they honored it.

Kyle interrupted her train of thoughts. "Smell the air…it's changed dramatically. A new guardian is keeping Gatlin safe. I smell him…a wolf boy. Definitely a wolf boy…_I hate wolves_." He growled out the last sentence and crinkled his nose. "Damn flea-bags." 

Raven placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. "I smell wolf too; it's strong…another demon?"

Kyle shook his head. "No…there's a real wolf and a guardian, whose is _like wolf_. He's been watching us for some time now. Can't you feel his eyes watching every move we make? He's out there and he's…_arrogant_. Seems like our master has forgotten to inform him of who we are. Shall we go in and inform the newest lackey of why we lasted so long in this world?"

Raven smirked. "Be my guest."

The pregnant Silkster became a fully employed mother, always watching her children pounce upon each other and their little gray bodies climbing over each other. They could not hiss or snarl or growl yet; they could only "meep" for the time being. Admatha watched them with her pale blue eyes; they pounced upon each other. Fortunately, they did not have the saliva that melted flesh, but they did have teeth that could tear through flesh. A conceited juvenile Silkster learned that lesson, when three of its eyes were ripped out of its head. The mother devoured the predator quickly before it thought about killing her children. They "meeped" happily; a few found themselves playing with the large black eye, while a few took to nibbling on the sweet muscle of the other two. The rest of the Silkster pack took to the ceiling, not wanting to get eaten. The mother was pleased with this arrangement, no longer would she have to worry about her pack mates becoming meals for her children or her children becoming late night snacks. It was a perfectly good arrangement. Five gray-bodied Silksters pounced and leaped upon the black eye and began to chase it frantically around on the floor. They "meeped" aggressively, hoping to ward off any adult Silksters from their toy; the adults listened well. They stayed trapped upon the ceiling, hissing warnings to the mother, who simply shrugged them off. She did not care what they thought; she only cared about her children and their happiness. 

Admatha watched the mother Silkster care for her children and sighed. She had her chance, with her own. "Sano!" she barked as she watched the five infants kick the eye away from each other, "Go collect Idbash's charges…they are becoming nuisances. I can hear them from here and they are starting to give me a headache." Sano bowed and transformed, becoming the little thief that he was. Admatha muttered under her breath. "Now I know why they are called _Children of the Corn_…they are immature, little brats. It makes perfect sense."

Idbash could not take it anymore. They were becoming nuisances. Isaac and Micah were busy staring each other down, hoping that perhaps they could each other with a simple glare or muttered curse. Well, these did not work. Their glaring only becoming more and more annoying for Idbash, who had begun to wonder if she could kill them herself and get away with it. After all, this was probably the reason why He Who Walks Behind the Rows gave up on them. They were children with the minds of children. They could not put away their childish hostilities; they could not banish this weakness from their minds. And she was more than willing to bet that their own battle would be the longest; of course, most of it would probably consist of glaring, which at the moment, Micah seemed to be doing quiet well. However, Isaac had a smirk on his lips, a smirk that meant painful torture. She continued onward, wondering if she could lose them somehow; yet the thought immediately came back with a downside. To lose them would only mean that she would have to locate them and be punished at the same time. This prospect was deemed unpleasant. Very quickly; Idbash was losing this battle in a short amount of time. 

Ezekiel walked into the fields; his guides shunned themselves away from him, obviously hurt about their outward appearances. They muttered to themselves and only spoke to Ezekiel when they question his reign or when he asked about his resurrection. He answered their questions and they made a valiant attempt to give him the correct answers; they spoke in hushed tones and broken whispers. They were answers that pleased no one but the demon guides. He walked through the path that was made for him; the stalks did not forget his majesty and they bowed accordingly. Law and order prevailed here and his swift and decisive was not forgotten. The blood that was spilt upon the land stained the earth permanently. The cries of the infidels and the unbelievers never left the roots the corn; sometimes, after a winter-week of hell or a summer hot, downpour, the stalks and leaves would cry out in their blood as a reminder of what they had done. It was never a sign of what they had accomplished, but what they had done with their own hands, minds and hearts. He continued on through the fields, thinking deeply about what would happen when he met the others; as far as he knew, this was his last chance to show his Lord and Master what he was made of. This was his last chance to show his followers that he was still supreme over all. Of course, a few heads would have to roll before they saw his power and prestige; in some ways, he knew exactly who he wanted to take down first. And in other ways, he wanted to stay in the shadows and watch them fuck up royally. It would make his second life much easier. But then of course, he was afraid of meeting another valuable enemy. He was afraid, because the rest would be afraid once he showed. Because he always had power on his side, power that he could wield with a single thought; power that could take them down in a single punch. But this leader was not at all flashy and he preferred to work in a simply, non-caring way. 

Ezekiel, however, did not care to think to long about his rivals.

He cared about how he was going to decapitate the first. 

She could hardly open her eyes, but heard the voices of two distinct women; one was rather smooth and pure, while the other was deep and rich. One good and one evil; perhaps her judges, ready to dictate whether she was good enough for hell or whether she was good enough for heaven. That was the way it was supposed to work, was it not? 

__

"She's in very good condition for someone her age," spoke the pure voice with a hint of optimism. 

"She should be…after all, I made sure that she gave one hell of a show for those pathetic, inbred mortals. I take great pride in my work."

"Ah," sighed the pure voice. "You never speak well of them. Why is that?"

The deep voice purred. "Because they always enjoyed doing her bidding. Not so much his bidding, but hers. She liked playing with them, making them move in the direction they wanted to go in; she loved giving them their inner desires. They worshipped her for it; deep down inside, she loved the spotlight and loved being loved. Therefore, she gave them her attention. I was on the back burner for most of my life. She always preferred them. I was always second best. A hand-me-down if you will; I was not new like they were. I was not pure and innocent like they were. I was just…a nuisance." 

__

"Well, her playthings are about to start an uproar."

The deep voice laughed. "Yes, well; she thought she could get away with it. But of course, she does not know who you'll become next. And this girl is pretty powerful. She too has the gift of Sight. Which of course, is a blessing." The deep voice owner waited for a reply of any sort. None came. "She is definitely her mother's child. That Sarah…"

"Hush," responded the pure voice. "She's sleeping."

"Probably thinks she's dead."

The pure voice huffed a bit. "Well, since the bullet did hit her brain. To them, that means death."

"Like I said before, I take great pride in my work." The owner of the deep voice ran a hand along the left side of the face. "See…she thinks she's dead."

"Until she realizes that she can wake up."

David Johnson left the priest in the church; he had taken the liberty of stringing up his body and intestines upon the ceiling; sure, they dripped a bit, but as long as one had an umbrella, then you were fine. It was the usual routine now; the priest would piss him off and David would kill him. Of course, he would have to wait a decade and a half until he found which body the priest occupied and then they would start the entire relationship all over again. Yet, the priest always found this amusing. Always and forever, until He decided to take charge and wipe them both out. David did not find _that_ amusing. He did not want to be wiped out and he refused to be lured in such a manner. He had higher priorities; one was to outlive them all and divulge himself in the finest. 

The wolf boy was indeed watching them; he soaked in their movements and studied their personalities. He immediately hated Kyle and he immediately adored Raven. Of course, that would hold until she said something stupid; but until that time, he adored her. Darkness from the fields covered him completely from their eyes; it was a good thing too. It meant that his ravished blade was covered in darkness with him. That was all that truly mattered in life. A gleaming blade ready to bring justice to those _arrogant_ fools who felt it necessary to defile the very thing he loved. "Behold, the two sacrificial lambs wandering towards the burning alter of the Lord. They knew it was their time to bring themselves before the merciful God and ask that He prepare them a place by His side. But the Lord, being full of wisdom and wonder, shunned the two black sheep from His sight. 'Ye are unworthy of the Lord! Thy fleece is damaged from your many unforgivable sins and thy eyes are blind to the true ways of the Lord'. And then, the mighty Lord spoke down upon then a curse. 'May the loyal wolf tear you down and strike at your soul; may your blood run like the river and your shallow, denounced cries howl like the stormy wind'. And the Lord called upon the wolf, whose eyes were like fire and whose teeth shone in the brilliance of the Lord. 'Go and take them from My sight. For I have given; now I take'." 

Temita lanqo devilo; spirato gurmi locité miy otil. Guwynot simperel funik. 

Time ago the Devil came; the spirit of the land knew nothing. And Gatlin was the key to it all. 

Gatlin had seen its share of heartache and pain; Gatlin had seen its land overrun with blood and rats and other unholy testaments. Gatlin had seen many horrors in its heyday. In fact, the first massacre was only a short pit stop to the real horrors Gatlin had seen. And it was all due to the fact that a branch from the Devil walked upon the land carelessly and decided to make it His home. And even before that Gatlin had seen a lot worse. Gatlin, just a piece of land out in the middle of nowhere, had seen Armageddon many times over. Gatlin, not even a dot on a map, had seen the armies of Life and the armies of Death slay away and die. Gatlin, a small-town with only two stoplights, had seen the fall of the sun and the chilling touch of a long-lived after-life. Gatlin was cursed long before the lives of Isaac and Malachi. Gatlin was cursed the day it was born. He was there when it was born and He claimed it as His own. 

Gatlin, a small-town, had seen worse in its heyday. Perhaps, because, He had brought along a friend; one much worse then He. And the Other knew how to steal the life of the party away from the host. 

The dungeons of Hells rattled loudly as the bellowing from one of the inmates shook the cages to their core. "LET ME OUT!" screamed the inmate with the fury that could match a tornado. "LET ME OUT! I SWEAR, I'LL FIND HIM AND GRIND HIM BACK INTO THE COLD, DARK EARTH! LET ME OUT! LET ME FINISH WHAT I WAS COMMANDED TO DO! LET ME FINISH HIM OFF! LET ME FINISH THAT CONIVING LIAR! LET ME KILL HIM!" The voice became louder and louder with each new sentence. "LET ME OUT OF HERE! LET ME GO AND KILL THAT MANIPULATING, EVER-SMRIKING, HOLY-THAN-THOU BASTARD!" The inmate stopped and it seemed that peace might finally settle over. 

"LET ME KILL THAT BASTARD, ISAAC!" 


	13. Chapter Twelve

Dear Readers and Reviewers: 

Okay, I hope everyone is doing well and is happy with the progress I have been making so far. Even I'm impressed with myself. So, as you can see for yourselves the characters are getting anxious and are feeling rather, well, intimidated by each other. The half-demon guides are trying their best to keep them pumped and ready to destroy each other, but there is a draw back…their betrayers are still at large and leading happy normal lives. This is not good, people! Revenge must be met! Their blood must be spilt and help the corn flourish and keep He Who Walks Behind the Rows sedated.

To Lain: Do I sense some Freddy Krueger…cause Lord knows he styles well with that Fedora!

To Amanaka: Enjoy this…I won't be able to update for a while!

To Garbage and City Lights: WHERE ARE YOU? I miss you, girl!

To SnuffSnuff: Enjoy the mayhem your character causes!

****

Isaac and Micah walked into the elaborate warehouse; Silver stopped struggling and finally gave into the painful bites of the baby Silksters…they had just recently finished off her legs and were going towards her thighs; her leg bones were white, illuminating Admatha's unearthly glow. She was floating in and out of consciousness and no longer worried about death, she worried about how long death would be delayed. The baby Silksters meeped at their prey and continued to bite and tear, bite and tear, bite and _tear_. Silver let out an audible scream that echoed throughout the warehouse; Isaac and Micah simply shrugged it off, while Idbash smirked in delight. Torture was such a high for her. Silver screamed again and a loud meep echoed throughout the building, crawling its way into secret cracks and echoing even there. Isaac crossed the floor and made his way, silently, over towards Admatha who had her elegant back towards him. Micah stayed where he was and watched through the corner of his eye, Silver's body being devoured by the ravenous infants. Their gray bodies crawled on top of each other, tearing chucks of precious flesh. They drank the blood quickly, making sure not to waste such a valuable resource; their bellies were growing fat. 

Sano walked in with a bruised cheek; Admatha refused to ask why and "Jael" simple smirked at the sight of such a bruised ego. "When I say no, I mean no." Sano raised a hand to hide his wound, but his eyes gave away his true feelings. She had hurt him; she had hurt him very deeply. And she was proud of it. He lowered his eyes in their presence, feeling unworthy, used, and unloved. Everything pointed to him being hopeless; Admatha promised him her scorn, she expressed no desire for him, and his mind constantly warred with his heart. His heart was what kept the illusion and he was hurt when she tore him down. No, his cheek would heal quickly, but his heart was smashed into a million pieces. 

Admatha kept her back toward Isaac, but spoke to him. "Hello, Chroner. Welcome. Welcome to your Last Chance." Admatha felt his cringed and smirked with utter happiness. "As my associate, no doubt, informed you of what it is you are about to undertake; at least, I hope she's prepared you for whatever may occur during your _time_ here. As you have seen, your predecessors have also been reborn; Mr. Chroner, I hope that you realize that your Favor with the Lord is not as strong as you thought once. You failed Him and therefore, He expects that you earn your way back into His Favor. Destroy your enemies and enter His Favor once again; fail and find yourself back in the pits of hell, where even your cries shall be burnt." She turned and faced him, pale eyes forcing themselves into his own. "Do I make myself absolutely clear, Mr. Chroner?" 

Isaac could do nothing but nod. 

She accepted that and turned her face away from his. "Very well then, I suggest that you prepare yourself for a little reunion; the rest should be coming shortly."

He stepped back, unsure of what he was required to do now. Silver's screams had finally been silenced; now, all they had to deal with were the sounds of snapping, cracking, breaking bones. The infant Silksters meeped in delight as their bellies continued to grow and grow and grow. 

Micah Balding over heard the conversation and decided that he was not that interested in meeting Admatha; she seemed to have no confidence in their abilities and therefore, he felt that he should not have to put up with her unappealing remarks. He stayed where he was and felt that Admatha should be pleased that he was there at all. After all, he felt that he was beneath all of this; blood only meant that his hands and quite possibly, his clothes, would become dirtied. He felt that his so-called helpers should do the physical work; he would only be involved with the spiritual. He still had yet to meet his guides, the Shifter Tabitha and Murderous David; he needed to meet them before he felt confident with their abilities. And if he felt absolutely no confidence, he would just get rid of them himself. After all, he had spent many years in hell learning many different techniques, why not use them upon the very things they destroy?

If they disappointed him in any possible way; he had no qualms with becoming the greatest leader if he did it all by himself. That only meant more respect from the newest followers.

Idbash walked over to the white, porcelain-looking skeleton that was once the living, breathing body of Silver. The bonds, which once held the flesh, now hung limply on the bones. The infant Silksters began to climb off the body, full and pleased. Their gray bodies looked healthy and swollen; they meeped and their mother gathered them up, hissing with utter happiness. The rest of the clan began to climb down from the ceiling, feeling secure that the infants had enough to eat. The mother glared at her family with all of her eight inky, black eyes. She trusted none of them; her infants did not either. They meeped angrily when they touched the floor, and they succeeded in driving the pack back into the farthest corner. Idbash untied the bonds and let the skeleton fall to the floor with a crash. "Well, at least she served a purpose."

Isaac turned away, affected by Admatha's words. He Who Walks Behind the Rows lost faith in him, the first to bring about His Word, to teach the children about His Ways. Now, it all made sense as to why he was back; he was back to perform tricks, to entertain He Who Walks Behind the Rows just like a faithful pet. He glanced over at Micah, watching him walk around and surveying the scene, then commented to himself how unworthy Micah was. He who had to be possessed in order to follow He Who Walks Behind the Rows would surely fail in this trial; he did not want the leadership before, what made him want it again? He removed his gaze from Micah and continued his own survey of the building. He never knew that Gatlin could hold such an awesome building; in fact, he never knew that it stood here. If it was an illusion it certainly was powerful enough to fool even his wise eyes. Suddenly, he felt a breeze behind him. 

"This has been here for a long time, Isaac. You just needed to look for it." Idbash smiled at him. "In fact, we are not even in Gatlin anymore. This place is nothing more than air to those who are blind. It is simple for us, the immortals of the world, to create such places. It allows us a sanctuary, a place to think when we can no longer stand the mortal world." She turned briefly and watched as Micah began to chat lazily with Sano whose hand still rested upon his cheek. "He seems rather confident about himself and his abilities, but I get the feeling that he is unaware of what his true objective is. There is anger and rage against someone who betrayed him and he will use that to his full advantage, but something like that is not quenched easily. He will continue onward, crushing those who oppose him, killing those who are weak, and breaking those who show cowardice. He will become powerful after he kills Danny and Lacey. Maybe too powerful for you to stop." Her eyes bore into his own; he let the words sink in. She continued. "Because, when he kills Danny and Lacey, he will no longer need His possession. He will have killed them with his own hands. He will taste blood with his own tongue. His hands will have finally gotten dirty with his knowledge." She sighed heavily and watched as Sano shifted his position a bit. "My own enemies do not know of my true strength; but maybe if they understood where my roots lay they would understand why I am what I am. Here is some advice Isaac. Always question your followers, including your demon helpers. Question all that they do and the reasoning behind their actions. Finally, question yourself and your own abilities and if there are any flaws within your strategy I suggest you strengthen them." She turned away from him and took a few steps towards Admatha's direction. "Be cruel, Isaac. Be so very cruel." 

The phone rang twice, but he knew what it was about. "Hello."

"Good evening, Mr. Gilman; I was wondering if you would be willing to spare me a few minutes of your time tomorrow. I have a few questions to ask you …could I speak with you after the funeral…around 5:00?"

"This is about Ember…isn't it?"

The voice spoke in a softer tone. "Yes. I was hoping that you might be able to tell me about her home life since her father is unable to cooperate with us." 

"I know nothing about their household problems."

"Well, perhaps you could tell me something about Mrs. Cobalt? After all, she was…"

"I told you before, I know nothing about their household problems," he stated calmly. Too calmly.

"Please, Mr. Gilman, your help would be much appreciated in this investigation."

"Detective Satine, I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone."

"Mr. Gilman, your niece is dead…your help would be _very much appreciated_." She snarled over the phone. The last time she had to do that, she was speaking to a potential rapist. "A girl like that does not commit suicide everyday!"

He huffed into the phone. "She was too much like her mother, Detective…it killed her. That's what happened. Now do me a favor. _Drop it_." 

"Mr. Gilman, why are you making this difficult?"

"Why do you bother? She committed suicide…it was drugs, gangs, television, music, depression, the Internet, pregnancy, not enough love, didn't get what she wanted, felt that no was listening to her…take your pick. She's dead. It's a shame, but there is nothing that I can do about it. Nothing…now, leave me alone." He was about ready to hang up when he heard her voice. 

"What would your sister think of your actions?"

He gripped the phone and waited for the flashbacks to subside. "She's dead too. I can't talk to the dead." With that he hung up, but it was difficult with his hand shaking so badly. "I can't talk to the dead…dear God, I can't talk to the dead." 

Dr. Stanton rushed to the emergency ward; the child within his care had gone back into another seizure and could not be held down. Her blue eyes were open and staring, but they saw nothing but blinding lights above her. But her mouth was moving, always moving…and it was predicting…predicting everything. "I'm dead," she seemed to say to the only pair of ears that would listen. "I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead." He placed his hand upon her head and tired to steady her down. "I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead." He shushed her and began to ask for sedatives to calm her down. His other hand tried to find something that would keep the girl from biting off her tongue. But her voice seemed to float up to his ears. "I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. Dr. Stanton, I'm dead." Suddenly, her eyes rolled back and her seizures increased. He screamed for someone to help him, but everyone in the room was already busy with something else. "I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. Dr. Stanton, I'm dead." He screamed again and this time, they all turned to him, sadness in their eyes told him all that he needed to know. "I'm dead. I'm dead. You could not save me…you could not save me from my past, Dr. Stanton. You could not save my daughter from my past. They came for her too. Just as they came for me. Just as they will come for my brother. Just as they will come for you…he will come for you, Dr. Stanton…he is ready. You are not. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead." Her eyes closed and her chest heaved out her last breath. "I'm dead…I'm dead…I'm dead. I'm…d…" 

He opened his eyes and shot straight up. "Oh my God…" he muttered. "Oh my God."

The phone rang. It was answered. And a sweet feminine voice broke through the tension. "Hello…Stanton residence…Mrs. Stanton speaking…wait a minute…wait a minute…Jobie?"

Dr. Stanton stared at his wife, wide-eyed. 

"Jobie…what's wrong?" Mrs. Stanton paused. "Oh, God." 

Cyrus raced back to the town of Gatlin and ordered the young children to go back into their homes and wait for his signal. He wanted to greet the two legends alone and on his turf. They only knew of the old town, but years and time changed its form and molded it into a labyrinth of destruction. He already stationed able-bodied soldiers on the tops of the roofs and had them hold their position, while the others stayed on ground level, ready to fight or flee if need be. The older children stayed in the shadows, protected by nothing accept the hope that He Who Walks Behind the Rows would let them live to see another day. Murder weapons lay at their sides and waited for something, anything to happen. A wolf leaped up and rushed to the side of his master, hardly making a single, solitary sound. "They will pay for turning their backs upon their Master, Fumbles. They will pay this very night." His blade lay at his own side, gleaming under a mysterious light, a light that could only come from the Lord. "He is with us," he muttered to the children, who heard his voice within their minds. "He shall lead us to victory tonight…it is our time to rise up against the wicked…for they shall burn in the eternal pits of Hell." He stood in the center of the town and waited, but he did not have to wait for long. Under the blood red moon, her silhouette showed. The Death Angel…the demon…the half-demon…Raven…she was ready… "And the prodigal children have returned…and they shall suffer." 

Kyle charged through the fields, feeling the stalks cut through his dog fur, trying to slow him down, while Raven rose up to the sky and plummeted towards the town that she once considered home. Her claws were extended and reaching out for him, as though to embrace Cyrus in a motherly hug. Her eyes gleamed as she saw her intended target pull out a rather large blade, but there was no stopping her. Kyle howled in pure ecstasy; his demon blood pounded through his veins as he charged onward, tearing himself free from the stalks' grasp. Leaping high up into the air, Kyle landed in front of the fields, tongue lolling out. He dodged the first attack as stalks continued to fling themselves at him. They slapped at the earth and made attempts to grab his back legs…but Kyle remembered them very well and recalled their old tricks. _Did not think to change tactics did You_, he thought to himself. He never expected an answer.

__

You've grown Kyle…you've grown up a lot. 

Kyle stopped for a brief moment, turned and faced the fields. Familiar orange eyes stared back at him. He growled at the eyes, then turned back to face Cyrus, who was too busy fending himself off from Raven's attacks. 

__

I remember when I first saw you…a pathetic, weak, simple-minded beast. You were a runt and not surprisingly you stayed the same. I molded you…I made you strong. I gave you what you needed. But you deserted me. You and Raven just left…you left My service. Why? Was it because I chose another to keep My home clean from the infidels? Were you jealous that I took in the children and no longer trusted you and she to carry out My plans? Were you hurt that I choose innocence over tainted blood? The children were Mine to have, Kyle…they truly last forever. You were nothing more than a needed pawn in this horrific chest game. 

Kyle's fur bristled up. He Who Walks Behind the Rows knew how to play the game.

__

I choose Isaac over you. You were a runt. A useless runt…Isaac was strong and possessed the gift of Speech. You will always be second. Always. Even Raven would never have you. Never. 

Kyle growled in a low, dangerous tone. 

__

She would never have you…and when she's dead you will have no need for her. 

Cyrus found a weak spot in Raven's attacks and swung low, cutting through her torso. She screamed in pain and rose back up into the air. The word was given and sharp objects were hurled at her as she attempted to race back towards the safety of the sky. Her blood dripped downward, splashing the earth like rain. The earth greedily drank it up. 

Kyle broke his gaze from He Who Walks Behind the Rows and charged towards Cyrus, leaping up into the air and tackling the boy. "You little slave!" he roared. "Want a fight…take me!" He lowered his head to rip out the boy's throat, but another furry body tackled Kyle off of him and sunk it's own teeth into Kyle's shoulder. The half-demon easily threw off the wolf, Fumbles, and rushed the young pup. The wolf, still new to the world of fights, took a tumble. The ground cut into his skin, but it merely felt like a sting. The pup stood up and was knocked back down again. Kyle placed a well-put paw on the pup's throat and leaned in a little. The pup struggled to breathe and whimpered pathetically. Cyrus stood up, picked up his blade and raced to help his only friend; that was what Kyle was waiting for. Turning swiftly on the pads of his back feet Kyle swirled around and lunged to take out Cyrus' leg…

Raven dive-bombed again, taking with her a bloodied head and dropping that from the sky unto the hungry earth. The children on the roofs readied themselves, while a few fled. Those that fled were easily caught within her talons and killed. 

Cyrus grabbed his leg, as Kyle tore off only a small chunk. The stalks of corn continued to fling themselves at Kyle, slapping the earth and spearing nothing but the air. 

The older children gathered themselves up and rushed out to savor glory, blood and death. Unfortunately, they were easily picked off. Raven slashed her way through them, cutting them down, harvesting them. The earth took their shells and feasted well. 

She walked out to see him and was not disappointed at all of how he looked. He had grown some and matured; he had cleaned himself before presenting himself and he spoke with a voice that rich and deep. But most importantly he did remember her. 

"Davine?"

She spoke back; her own voice was rich and deep as well, sultry. "So, she did it. She brought you back…all of you." Her voice held a hint of nervousness as though she did not expect him to be there. "She brought you back so you could die again. That bitch." She reached out and gently touched his cheek. He was warm and soft and real. "But she expects you to die…I know she does."

"Do you expect me to die?"

"If you play along, yes. Then nothing will be able to bring you back."

He shifted a bit and lowered his eyes on his guide. She excused herself and backed away. "I must you know…it is the way."

"Yes...die for Him…die for Her…die for them all." Her voice raised its tone…she did not intend for that to happen. But it did. "You were mine before any of them knew you…before they took you. You were mine before it all." Her hand took hold of his hair and tugged it gently. "You were mine," she whispered, "and now you'll die for them…to entertain them. You'll die for them…but not for me." She pulled him close to her. "Why?"

He lifted her head up toward him. "It is His wish, Davine."

"But not mine."

"I'm sorry." 

"And I'm…"

The small guide cut into between the two. "Okay, she's expecting him to arrive at headquarters soon and I do not wish to be killed in this battle for power. Can he and I get going?" 

Davine nodded and let go of his hair; he let go of her chin. The small guide was pleased with the both of them; for once breaking up this reunion was easier than the last time. Which involved a week's stay at a mortal hospital. "He must get going…it is his decision to go. I shall not stop him. It is not my place." 

His eyes dulled a bit; her words stung him deeply. "It is not my wish, Davine."

"That's right…it's my mother's." 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Telu, mesil tonlú senit pol tuniá bulë eks letná rant'il keni tunila rentiz lomu. Gyhe pluo, wenytu Galni lonhi muanu. Mun luni temora kenliu polin tyna kelne pernit fanorn thyis klequole. Wly knelne; thybes, wly, thybs? --- Prophecy of Old (shortened)     

He took in a deep breath and waited; he waited for reality to begin its deceitful lies. "I'm not here," he mumbled to himself, feeling the vibrations work their way through his throat. "No, I'm not here. I can't be here. This is not at all possible." He touched his arms, his face, his legs; everything about him was dry. He was dry and no longer within a dark place, a place that was wet and small and very uncomfortable. He was _whole. "How can this be?" he asked to no one in particular. "How can I continue to exist? Why do I continue to exist? Who would want me to exist?" He staggered around a bit, unable to fully get a feel for his balance. Surrounding him was not the place he remembered. There was a something amiss; he was dry when he remembered being wet, he died and now he was back, and there was a force beckoning for him to move, to find someone and move towards the origins of it all. He stumbled a bit more, but found that he was being pulled towards a particular corner of the room that he was in; it reminded him of a waiting room, without the age-old magazines, stuffy smell, or couches. Instead, this room held a single couch. And there was a single figure sitting on the corner, hidden by the darkness. "Hello; could you perhaps tell me what is going on?" He moved closer and noticed that the figure drew back into the darkness. "Please, I won't hurt you. Please tell me what is going on?" _

 The figure continued to move back into the darkness, but spoke to him none the less. "Josiah." The voice was cold, as though it was an entity all its own and was trying its hardest to stay aloof. "Josiah, you must regain His Favor. You are being called back. You are being called back to fight for your place." The figure stopped moving away, but stopped speaking as well. 

"He? He is calling me back into His Service? He could not possibly want to call me back…I died. I was a failure. To Him and to the others." He shifted around a bit, no longer feeling unbalanced. "Who are you?"

"I," began the aloof, feminine voice, "I am the one they call Shade. I am here to take you to her, to prepare you for what is to come." A thin looking hand reached out to Josiah, asking that he help her up out of the darkness and into the light. Gripping the cold hand, he pulled and what he saw startled him. 

Short black hair and pale brown eyes greeted his own dark eyes; her face was light, not pale… just _light_. However, what struck Josiah the most were the strange markings that lay upon her right shoulder; they looked like twisted stalks of corn that formed a cross-like design, but that was only his opinion. However, she noticed his lingering stare. 

"I'm marked. I work for He. I have no choice." Her sorrowful tone struck his heart. 

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head and looked away from him. "Tis not what you wanted anyway…that much I am sure of." She rubbed her arms with her hands. "Ethan should be here, eventually; he was too take us to her, but if he is late then we should move forward. She won't be happy with us being late, but you were delivered to me rather late. Not that that matters much; in fact, I don't think it matters much at all." Her eyes began to stare at the couch, floor, ceiling all in one fell swoop. "Tis not what you wanted anyway…that much I am sure of." She continued to rub her arms. "I hate this waiting." Then in a low whisper that not even Josiah could here, she added "I hate doing this." 

 A breeze whipped through them, though there was no window within the room. And it spoke; it spoke only to Shade. _I choose you. You are Mine. Do as I say, or feel My punishment. _At this, Shade shuddered. _You are Mine. Do as I say. _

Josiah moved closer to her, not enough to frighten her. He did not wish to do that. "Are you cold?" he asked, wonderingly. He stared at the scared creature before him and speculated what was going through her head. _He is controlling her no doubt, he thought to himself. _And she seems to think that I am one of His. How strange, that such a timid thing could become something mortals fear.__

"I am…"she began, looking around her, feeling the presence linger around a bit more, "nervous." The presence was slowly dissipating. "Perhaps we should move on now…Ethan can always catch up with us." She turned her head, lifted her hand and with a quick wave, made the room, an illusion, disappear. "Come…we have a journey to complete tonight." Her feet began to move and she did not bother to turn back to see if her "charge" was following; she just hoped that he was. 

Daylight began to peak over the tops of the homes that lined up Tabitha's street; today was the day. Though the sun shone brightly over the rooftops, this was the day that she would be wearing all black; she had not slept the night before, wondering and worrying about Raven and Kyle, hoping that they might show and at least pay their respects to Ember. Her hand immediately went to the back of her neck, trying to block out the strange tingle that had begun weeks ago. And just as suddenly, her hair began to turn from pure blonde to blonde with red highlights. Something was happening and she being what she was knew that it would not leave unless she dealt with it. "Am I being called?" she asked herself; her hand ran through her hair pushing it away from her face. The clock on her desk read 7:10. "Great, school is going to be such a blast." Quickly, she showered, brushed her teeth, grabbed her finished homework and made her way downstairs. "This is going to be great…no one is going to be there…and I'll hear whispers about her death…and then, they will turn against me. Great, just what I need." Her blue eyes flashed dangerously as another jolt traveled through her neck. "And now, I'm being called," she muttered in a low, inaudible voice, "what the hell am I to do?" 

"Honey…will you be alright?"

Tabitha turned around and faced the woman that she had been lying to for over 17 years. "Yes, Mommy. I'll be fine." Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. A single tear streak down her mother's face. "What's wrong?" She hoped that she had not caused more problems for herself. After all, she wished to leave this place with wonderful memories in her heart. Her mother, a woman who remained strong throughout years of tough times, began to cry. Tears streamed down her face and a hand was lifted up to her mouth, covering up something that she was probably supposed to hear. 

Her caretaker, her provider, her cook, her "maid", her chauffeur, her cheerleading squad, her strength, her soul, her heart, her mind, her shelter, her foundation, her confidant, her best friend, her movie partner, and her partner in crime opened her mouth and spoke. "That's the first time you called me…mommy. Ever."

She made it onto the bus in one piece, took a deep breath and waited for the whispers to begin. They did, flooding her senses. They spoke loudly, crushing the very air she was trying to breathe. Their very thoughts stifled her movements as she attempted to make her way towards the back of the bus; her black outfit assured them that she was indeed going to be leaving early. Then they could vocally ask their desired questions and begin the ruthless cycle of high school gossip. Besides, after the funeral, she would have to leave. He was calling her back and that familiar tingle only meant that He brought back…_no_, He would not dare to bring _him_ back! There was a reason why she left the service in the first place, a reason why she sought out a normal human life, a reason why she ran away from her duties. But she could not bring herself to confess those reasons just yet; she could not. To confess everything, would be to return to the world that she once knew so well and hated. To confess would bring her back to him, back into the arms that betrayed her confidence. The tingle felt her thinking of him and forced itself to move throughout her entire body, sending shivers up and down her legs, back and arms. "Please, please, please, please, please…don't tell me that he is back. Don't me that son of a bitch is back. Not him; anything but him." She rested her head against the back of the seat in front of her and began to chant to herself. "Fronti nulla fides, fronti nulla fides, fronti nulla fides, fronti nulla fides…" 

David realized, after watching his flat burn and killing his dearest friend again, that he had no choice but to join her; he was sought out specifically for whatever it was that he possessed. Certainly, she did not call upon him for a dinner arrangement or to ask advice about hosting a distinguished, intimate party reserved for the elite of the underworld. No, she called upon him because he was indeed well known for his loyalty and his unique skills as a fighter…or as he liked to put it, as a survivor. During his lifetime, he had seen too many demon hunters come after his hide, wanting badly to place his decapitated head upon a mantle with the fires lit and a victory song in their hearts. Some of his closest friends, demons he not only hunted with but also enjoyed their companionship, died at their hands; they were ripped apart, burned, electrocuted, and chanted upon. The chants were the worse; when spoke correctly, certain chants had the ability to turn a demon's inside works into ash, while the outer appearance stayed the same. And it involved the most horrific pain any living thing could ever feel. "The old ways are dying," he mumbled, "they are dying because no one believes in tradition anymore. It is all about the latest fads; the latest and greatest trends in clothing, food, music, movies…no longer is it about life. It is about lessening the values. It is about…nothingness." He combed his hair back with his hand and began to walk over towards his bank…he decided that now would be a good time for a withdrawal. After all, he needed a pricey amount for a plane ride and taxi to take him to the most dreaded place imaginable. He realized earlier on, that everyone had a price…surely, he could find a taxi driver with a price. 

A breeze swept through him and taking a deep breath, he made his way over to his bank, prepared and unprepared at the same time. 

Order struggled when His time approached, as do all things struggle when they realize that it is their turn to step-down. From Order came Justice, Mercy, and Punishment; the first trinity of the world. The first to fully overthrow their Father and become beloved entities, rulers who could create and govern the creations new or old, well. With divided power still used as one, the creations found peace and prosperity with the new rulers. Justice swiftly executed Laws, Mercy gave chances, and Punishment dealt out blows to those passed over by Justice and Mercy. The creations were pleased.  So pleased were they, that they began to form an alliance amongst themselves. So pleased were they that they began to form and grow at their own will. So pleased were they, that for once all memory of the tyrant Order had vanished. The creations were pleased, the void was please, Nothing was pleased, and the world to be would soon be pleased. 

The Elder Monk closed the Great Book and watched as his brethren fell to their knees; "Minots, tema luso eri ön! Renito, ter hyna semula simpter knilo! Tilo mekana, eslo tria ditises…Merïc, Junis, et Punyent…tria ditises! Tria Ditises comila et birka het erath. Pricom, thiy shuln bi gnereus. Spari het livs fi yoyur fullols." He kept his eyes on them and watched as they began to rise, chanting his last sentence over and over again as protection as to what was to come. 

"Spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers…"  

Then, through the power of memory alone he spoke again, louder than before, proclaiming that now was the time to finally speak the last part of the Creation.

_Time passed on, allowing the trinity to rule the newly formed Earth; animals, plants, and humans rose up from the sea and clay and began to cultivate and reproduce. Mercy bestowed upon the populations of men and beasts and plants the ideas of truth, love, wisdom, humor and grace. Justice bestowed upon the populations of men and beasts and plants the ideas of perseverance, loyalty, bravery, intelligence, passion, and heart. Punishment bestowed upon the populations of men and beasts and plants the ideas of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, sacred rites, and knowledge of bestowing their thanks upon their Masters. And with these gifts the mortals of the world began to evolve and grow. They worshipped, they worked the land, they provided for their neighbors, and they administered their own laws. And the world began to understand and learn; when that happened, war broke out. _

_Man killed man, man killed beast, beast killed man, man killed the plants, and the plants killed man, the beasts killed the plants, and the plants killed the beasts. Mercy and Justice watched and intervened; Punishment stayed and hung onto the scent of death. And it was at this time that the Trinity broke apart. Mercy and Justice refused to let war reign over the world, while Punishment glowed underneath the red blood paint that splashed its way across the land. _

_Mercy and Justice begot the Light…and Punishment begot Darkness.   _

    

"…spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers…"

Separated they became and a new era dawned upon the world; it had to make a choice. It had to choose between the Light or the Darkness. It had to choose between God and the Beautiful Fallen Angel, Lucifer.

"…spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers; spare the lives of your followers…"

The Elder Monk closed his eyes and let the darkness within his core overtake his body; he sighed as it felt it coarse through his veins. 

Leah moved forward, after being forced to change directions. "Shit," she muttered, "this would be so much easier if I could just…change." Her feet lightly hit the dirt road, hardly feeling the pain anymore. It was just there and it was accepted as that. The back roads hid her well from prying human eyes, allowing her to use the grace she was blessed with; her legs pumped up and down at a steady pace and her breathing eased up. One breath, four steps; one breath, four steps; one breath, four steps; that was the plan. Her eyes scanned the area, checking each and every tree for signs of life…her stomach had been growling for over two days and it was time to eat again. "Come on…give me something. I can't go to Gatlin with an empty stomach. I just cannot do that." 

A bird flew by over head. 

Again, she checked for signs of human life. When there was none, she took a running step and leaped into the air, snatching her flying prey and crushing it within her hands. It hardly had any time to scream out loud and warn its neighbors that a predator was in the vicinity; its blood seeped out of her fist, splashing upon the ground. Its eyes were shocked with eternal terror, but they were dull, void of life and longing. Leah stared at it for a brief moment, wondering if it left behind a family…those poor little birdies, she thought. I wish I could fly…definitely would make my life much easier. And with a satisfying crunch, she ate her snack.

Amanaka watched as Ethan stood up and dressed himself. Her eyes studied his movements as he walked around the bedroom, dressing himself along the way; he put on a straight black shirt and casual pants, which held a few rips and tears in choice places. She slipped down back into the sheets and sighed loudly…during the night they both voiced their opinions about the upcoming battles; Ethan was thrilled with the chance of fighting Amanaka, while she felt that this was ploy to break them up. "I failed when I was asked to kill Idbash and this is the price I am paying. You should not be this happy…what if I should kill you?" He laughed at her for suggesting such an unpleasant thought. 

"The question should be, what if I should kill you?" 

"Bastard," murmured Amanaka, in a low, dangerous tone. "Pride is what killed them…don't think you can escape that fate." 

He laughed. "I have everything that I want…I have wealth, power, prestige, and I have you, my little slave." He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned in, and kissed her fully on the mouth. "My little slave always tastes so good…fresh, ripe…always ready for the picking." He crept closer to her, eyes sparkling with desire. 

She turned away from him and sunk lower into the sheets. "If you don't want to discuss this, fine…I won't discuss it either." 

"Don't be like that, Amanaka…"

"Be like what…serious." She turned and faced him, anger written all over her face. "Because I am serious Ethan; this is serious matter. You and I are on opposing sides, all because I failed my mission to kill that bitch, Idbash. How dare you take this so lightly! This battle asks one of us to die, how can we both possibly consider killing the other whom we love so much." She placed a hand upon his heart. "That's what I fell in love with; if that stops, then mine will too." Her eyes stared deeply into his own amber eyes, never wavering in fear. "You are mine and I am yours. We are bound together; be serious for a moment and think about what this will do to our relationship. You are with Josiah…and I am with Isaac. One them will fall and we are meant to fall with them." 

"Amanaka, please; we both are known for our strength as fighters, Admatha would not want to kill such worthy demons."

"You forget. I am only a half-demon. Idbash turned three-fourths demon…she is lying about how she became so strong in a short amount of time." She sighed heavily and sat up straighter. "Admatha dislikes half-demons."

"Because you are not to her level. She enjoys conversing and fighting with her peers. Unfortunately for her, that includes a short list of about seven; the rest of the demon world is full of low class beings looking for their next meal…it's nothing but battles and politics. Both full-blooded demons and half-blooded demons in this day and age cannot measure up to the old ways. You know that." Ethan rested his forehead against hers and licked his lower lip. "And you are not unworthy in any way, Amanaka…I only chose the best in life."  

Shade's eyes constantly darted from Josiah to the ground during most of their time walking to Gatlin. She fumbled around with conversation, stumbling not only over her words but over her own feet as well. Her short hair was regularly being pushed back out of her eyes and Josiah had the strangest feeling that she was very uncomfortable around him. She asked simple questions, mostly about his childhood, which he answered to the extent that he wanted, while all the questions directed at her were met with mumbles and silence.  She spoke softly about Ethan, a full-blooded Hawk demon who was quite powerful in the fighting arena, while she was simply an illusion demon, half-blooded with no history about her past. She was not related to any animal, but she did carry the blood of a demon; it was her scent that attracted Admatha to her.  "I am not worthy within her eyes," said Shade as the sun began to appear over the stalks of corn. "I am alone in both worlds; my mother, a mortal did not want me, while my species cannot stand to look upon me." 

"I understand."

She shook her head and mumbled under her breath. "You only say that so I might fight harder for your side. When, in reality, I cannot do much at all." 

Ariana looked out of her window and watched as dawn appeared. The brilliant orange sun reminded her that today was the day for the big interview between herself and Tabitha Katherine Lynch. "Lord, this will not be easy." Quietly, she crawled out of bed, immediately feeling the chill in the air; her bathrobe was lying on the beige ottoman at the foot of the bed, ready to be worn for such an occasion. Her blonde hair was ruffled from the upsetting night sleep she had; tossing and turning were becoming a regular late-night exercise. "I might as well shower and eat," she said, yawning as she moved her way towards the shower. Herbal Essence sat on the bathroom counter, waiting to be opened and used; she tried to think of the commercial to the product she was using, but was disappointed when she did not receive the desired results. Just as well, she thought to herself. I don't deserve a totally organic experience on this depressing day. She lathered up and rinsed off, hoping to rid herself of some of the pain, but it was not at all like dirt. The pain that she had could not be scrubbed away. 

Quickly, she stepped out of the shower, brushed out her hair and began to clean her teeth; something was not right about this. I'm up too early, that's all. No way in hell would I normally be up this early. I'm just upset that some poor girl died; a life with so much potential has been snuffed out. That's all. Nothing more and nothing less. She finished and spit; her hair still dripped upon the floor, but now it was tangle free and soon it would be ready to be blown-dry. Her eyes stared into the mirror and she proceeded to examine herself; everything about her had changed. Her eyes looked tired and therefore her attitude changed. She was tired and hardly eating anymore; she knew that this case had to end soon or else she was going to seriously become ill. Ill enough that it would affect more than her stomach and appearance; it would affect the others at work who needed her on the force no matter what. I need more sleep, so why can't I do that?  I look like shit…but I have to go. Why am I the only one who takes on too much? She wrapped a towel around her head and headed towards the kitchen where her salvation, the coffeepot, stood. 

Her fingers lingered for a while on the bag of coffee grinds, as her mind wandered. "She asked for a Kyle and a Raven when I last called her. Kyle and Raven must have been friends with Ember Cobalt…why did I not pick up on this earlier?" She turned back towards the bathroom, leaving the coffee grinds to spill upon the floor. "Shit! Why didn't I pick up on this before?" she screamed. "How could I have missed this?"

Amanaka left the apartment and made her way down towards the local bar…she needed a drink after her conversation with Ethan that ended in way that was out of her control. He just did not understand how hard this was on her…this meant that she would have to think of him no longer in the terms of a lover, but the enemy. An enemy that had to be destroyed in any way possible; that entire train of thought frightened the hell out of her. The bartender asked for her choice and she mumbled an answer back: beer. He nodded and walked over to the glasses. She glanced down at the table and listened to a few of her peers rack up for a game of pool, Maim Style. The bartender set the drink down in front of her and left to give his attention to a livelier customer. She stared at the bottle and watched the amber liquid silently promise her release. Release that she desperately wanted. 

Opening up the bottle was relatively easy, especially after all the extra training she had. The first swig went down and tasted bitter, but she did not care. All she wanted was that buzz, something to tell her that was in control of how much she consumed. Her head someone break and heard the shouts of joy and the groans of defeat. Her eyes stared at the bottle, then closed a bit; all she wanted to do was listen; not speak but listen. 

"Hey, Babe. Want some company?" asked a voice that purred in her ear. 

She opened her eyes and slowly looked at the schmuck that woke her from her daydream. "Excuse me?" she said in a tone that most guys would have understood to mean that they were not wanted; however, he stayed and gave her a toothy grin. 

"I asked if you wanted some company; you look rather lonely."

The bartender called over. "Leave her alone, Mick. She's not your type."

Mick smiled at the bartender and waved him off with a flick of his hand. "I asked her if she was lonely, not you." Turning back to her, he pushed back a strain of unruly hair from her eyes. "There, sweetie, isn't that better?" She glared at him, giving him more than enough opportune times to leave with his body intact. "Aww…don't give me that look…I'm a really nice guy…really nice when you're nice to me."

She stared at him, nothing coming out of her mouth. She could not understand why Ethan would be so stubborn about such an important topic. He meant so much to her, didn't he feel the same way about her? She had been with him for a totally of fours years; she must have had a hold in him some way…somehow. He was always known as the playboy, but with her it was all serious relationship. And she was not the easiest catch or in fact the hardest, just the most interesting. "Excuse me," she began, "but, Mick…I'm involved. Try someone you know you can get." Her tone was flat, void of any direct threat, and her suitor seemed to think that the idea of her telling him off was the funniest thing in the world. "I'm involved with Ethan the Hawk."

"Sure you are," he cooed, so very unimpressed with her story. "And I bet you also knew the Leo, the King."

"He was killed. I can't speak to the dead. Only Admatha can do that."

Mick was taken back, but quickly regained his control over the situation. "You dare to speak her name in public. She, the one who brings death, is the enemy of us all. Get out!"

"I came here for a drink. Nothing more and nothing less, Mick; you're the one who began to harass me because you thought I was alone and easy to take down. I look as though I have seen the end of the world. The only reason why you are here is to pick me up the only way you know how." She took another drink of her beer. "Get lost loser." And before he could even blink, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it to the extent that it snapped off. Mick screamed in pain and Amanaka simply looked on as though she was not really there at all. With another yank, she pulled the hand off completely. "I have no use for this," she said quietly as Mick screamed in agony and in surprise. "I have no use for you either." Without another word, she plunged her hand into his chest and crushed his heart. "Now you know how I feel…Ethan should be so very concerned. Very concerned that his little toy might put up a fight that he is not expecting at all." Then she ripped out his crushed heart and held out in the open for all to see. "THIS IS HER DOING! AND WE ARE JUST PAWNS! YOU FOOLS, TIS HER TIME NOW!" She dropped the heart and watched as her peers began to make their way towards the doors. "Ethan, why did you lie to me? Why?"

Jenny watched as Tabitha moved throughout the halls, alone and unarmed from the attacks of her fellow students. It was tragic to see; she walked past the whispers and the lies, holding her head up high, all the while crying on the inside. No tear slid down her face, no tear to show the world that she was hurting on the inside; she gave no tear to those who wished for her pain and their satisfaction. Jenny moved forward as the second period bell rang, trying her best to get a hold of Tabitha, but she disappeared into the crowd of high school students, who were too busy asking questions and never caring to hear the answer.

She entered the classroom which was noisy beyond words and began to sing to herself, hoping that whatever words came out would be heard by her fellow peers and that they might listen to its message and hold it within their hearts. 

Don't tell me that

 I'm too strong to cry

Can't you relate

That I just wanna hide

From a world so cold

From a world so cruel

Cause it does not know

What I'm going through

I'm lost

In a sea of misery

She's gone

Gone away from me

I wish

I wish I said goodbye

She wonders

If I'll ever say my line

Don't make me new

I wanna feel these things

Don't show me how

How I am supposed to be

I wanna fly away

Just brush past it all

Don't wanna stay

Where time just stalls

I'm lost

In a sea of misery

She's gone

Gone away from me

I wish

I wish I said goodbye

She wonders

If I'll ever say my lines

So…

Don't tell me that

 I'm too strong to cry

Can't you relate

That I just wanna hide

From a world so cold

From a world so cruel

Cause it does not know

What I'm going through

From a world so cold

From a world so cruel

Cause it does not know

What I'm going through

She waited; she waited to hear their questions. 

But the classroom became louder, drowning her out. 

Tabitha turned around, thinking that she heard her name being called but with the rush of the crowd and the need to go to her class, she had no choice but to ignore it. Her English class immediately halted all conversations as she entered; all of their eyes were upon her, wondering silent questions, never having the guts to ask them out loud. Slipping into her seat, she glared at the rest of them, daring them to try her patience. Soon, it'll be 12:45…then I'll go home and get ready to face this…most likely alone. After all, what do they care for; she was not like any of them. She was gifted; she was… 

Her thoughts were interrupted as soon as her teacher walked into the room. "Great…just what I need…more crap."

Idbash walked out into the sunlight, took a deep breath, and sighed loudly. She was pleased with Cyrus' midnight work. Death stunk up the air. Fumbles limped over to her, head bowed in respect for her station. In tow came Cyrus, bathed in their blood. He looked tired; all mortals needed rest and Cyrus being only thirteen looked as though he hadn't slept in a month. "Did you kill them?" she asked rather gleefully. "I hope you killed them…cut out their tongues and rip out their hearts and all that good stuff." She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at him earnestly. "Well…did you? Did you?" 

"They were strong…strong enough to survive. Right now they are hiding, nursing their wounds…it was a long battle and I'm tired. Even Fumbles needs a rest." 

Idbash ruffled the boy's hair and smiled. "I knew you would be okay, Cyrus. Go get some sleep. We shall await the next battle tonight." 

Cyrus rubbed his leg. "Will Admatha heal me first? I was bitten. Hard." He pulled up his black pant leg and showed her the nasty wound Kyle infected upon him. "He took a piece out of me." 

"Kyle…that dog could never come up with better tricks. If you ask nicely, I'm certain that she would be more than happy to heal your wounds." She patted his head. 

"Don't. I'm not a child anymore."

Idbash crinkled her nose at his disdain. "If you're not a child…then you're an adult. And we kill adults. Do you want to die?" she asked playfully, hardly understanding that she would receive an answer. 

"I want to become more," whispered Cyrus. His eyes gleamed with greed that only the corn and He Who Walks Behind the Rows noticed. 

Ezekiel walked into the warehouse, completely prepared for what was to come. Immediately, Micah and Isaac felt his presence, the presence of the enemy and he did not care to see their reactions. He just cared about claiming what was rightfully his all along. Now all he wanted to do was test out how strong his power really was. He felt Micah stare at him, testing him with his eyes, and within his veins he felt both concern and confidence flow. Ezekiel hid a smirk of conviction; they would only soon learn why He Who Walks Behind the Rows chose him. 

Admatha did not address him; instead she kept her back towards him, as though she was slowly getting bored with the entire process. Her blonde/white hair shone in an unusual light; it was illuminating her entire body. "When do we begin?" he asked with caution. Isaac and Micah both gave him a knowing look that read you-should-know. "Are the others not here yet?" Again, both former leaders gave him a knowing look. "What will happen when they get here?" At this, Micah answered.

"When the rest arrive, young Ezekiel, then we shall be sent forth to conquer those who conquered us." 

Ezekiel narrowed his eyes, the only gesture of thanks he wanted to give. Already Micah was making a nuisance of himself in his book; just another comment from him might result in his extermination from the game; early on. But for the moment Ezekiel kept his mouth shut, not wanting to give too much away. For the moment, he at least knew that his demon aids would be there to help with the process of Micah's unappealing torture. And in time, it would all fall to place. 

"Now, Cyrus, do you remember where they fled? We could easily get rid of them now while they are wounded. Being what they are means that they will have healed by tonight. Are you positive you don't want to send the younger children out to locate their whereabouts?" Idbash ushered in Cyrus, whose leg was still bleeding though not as profusely. Fumbles followed from behind, still limping. "Are you upset that they were more powerful than you expected?"

"They hurt Fumbles." Suddenly, he snarled. "They shall pay for their crimes against us!" 

"Of course they shall," Idbash reply, soothingly. "Of course they shall. But let us clean you up for tonight. After all, you need your leg. Besides, could it hurt to locate them early on…after all, all is fair in love and war." She giggled, though Cyrus found it to be rather infantile. "Come, send out a few of the younger children…they are tired of waiting; let them get some exercise. Cyrus?" She turned her head towards the newest leader. "Oh…this must be Ezekiel. Welcome back." She averted her attention back to Cyrus who was looking rather…annoyed. "Cyrus…may I send them out?"

"Sure," he growled underneath his breath, "after all, I am not the leader of the children…I'm still alive." 

Job Gilman sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at himself in the closet mirror; everything about him changed. He was no longer the happy little boy, but a grown man, miserable at the world. The world stole away the very things he loved: his mother and father, his baby sister, and now the niece he hardly knew. All because he never made the effort. He hated getting close to people, because they all died. In some way, in some form they died. And now, all dressed up in black, he was going to his niece's funeral; fortunately, Dr. Stanton and Mrs. Stanton would be there. Unfortunately, he feared being too near his sister's grave, afraid that out of the depths of the void she would begin to berate him and his lack of enthusiasm for life.  He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. And the memories came rushing back…

What about these two?

Take them back where they were.

But they had a game and music…they're forbidden!

Question me not, Malachi. I act according to His will.

Jobie, I'm scared…Malachi doesn't like us.

Sarah, Malachi doesn't like anyone.

Dear God, we beg thy blessing on the crop.

Behold, a dream came to me in the night, and the Lord did shew all this to me.

Praise God!

Praise the Lord!

Praise God!

Praise the Lord!

…have I not given you this place of killing, that you might make sacrifices there?

The Blue Man…the False Minister.

I obey the word of God.

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

And in my dream the Lord was a shadow that walked behind the rows, and he spoke to me in the words he used to our older brothers years ago. He is much displeased with this sacrifice.

"NO!" screamed Job as he opened his eyes. "No." He looked around the room and noticed that there was nothing out of place, nothing. But that thought did not comfort him at all. Just because nothing seemed wrong, did not mean that nothing felt wrong. He took in a breath and let his eyes scan over the room, checking everything. The pictures on the wall still held their innocent smiles, the painting on the wall were not dripping with the blood of the unbelievers, Malachi was not charging into the room ready to slit the throats of those who disobeyed, and Isaac was not there. Isaac was dead. Dead and gone, for he had seen it so. He was completely safe; however, his sister was not given much of that same luck. Before the accident took her life, back when he still kept in touch with his only remaining family, she gave me a box…pictures that she drew when she was younger, for she was blessed and cursed with the gift of Sight. He recalled flipping through them, laughing with her for these were nothing more than burnable childhood nightmares. Until he came to the bottom of the box…until he came to the newer ones. 

"Sarah…I don't remember these? Did you hide these from Isaac?"

It was during that last visit, that they both became years younger and years older. 

"No, Jobie…I did them after."

"After when, Sarah?"

"After…Gatlin." She said the word Gatlin like it was a dirty word. "After we ran…just last month, Jobie."

He stared at her, shocked. "Sarah…we left…we left that place. You should no longer have the Gift…we left." 

"Jobie, He is angry. He is angry that we left."

He lifted one that was full of color and began to decipher the message within it. In the picture there were five people, all of them were male and stabbed in various places. Blood ran from their bodies and into a large pool at their feet.  "What is this, Sarah? What does this mean?"

"The end of humanity, Jobie…they just need those who stand in their way to die. And shortly after I die, they shall all come back and battle for supremacy. Jobie…He is coming for us; He is calling us back to His side. He only questions how willingly we are."

Something hue, bulking up to the sky…something green with terrible red eyes the size of footballs.

Something that smelled like dried cornhusks years in some dark barn.

Yet be fruitful and multiply as the corn multiplies, that my favor may be shewn you, and be upon you. 

"He is making us become an army…He is making us multiply into a terrible army, Jobie. And He only wants the best to lead us."

Author's Note: I am going home this week…so, this is the last update for a while. Enjoy and please review; Josiah and Eli are taking their time getting to Gatlin for the moment, but in the meantime, the next chappie will be full of bickering between Ezekiel and Micah…while Isaac simply shakes his head at the two of them. Thank you again for all of your support. Hugs to all! 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

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Author's Note: Ack! FF.net screwed up my fonts! GRRRRRRRRR! Anger…much, much anger…oh well. I'll try the bold and italic again…maybe, I will update that last chapter _again_ and see if it will work the second time around. Well, now that my little rant is over with, I guess I should go on and say "THANK YOU" to all the people who are continually supporting this fic and its creator! 

****

THANK YOU!

And to think…when I first started this fic, I was going to limit myself to only 13 Chapters and now look…it's just a novel, that is growing up so quickly! (Tears) 

(Groups self together) Okay…well, I hope you all enjoy the next exciting update and feel free to cheer on your favorite leaders! Some of them need a morale boast!

Again, thank you all so much! You guys are terrific!

Hugs to All,

Quiet thief

****

…….

The guard stood by the prisoner's cell door, hardly flinching as the prisoner threw his body against the entrance, using all of his weight and strength to free himself from his cage. It was sealed well by the warden, a man with many years of experience at his side, so all thoughts of the prisoner's breakout were placed all the way in the back of the guard's brain. Parole was a word that was hardly, hardly ever uttered and the prisoners kept that in their black hearts. All except one; he was a special case of the warden. He was physically strong and placed under numerous tests to break his wild spirit. The old fashion racks and chains were useless against his stamina and new techniques had to be conjured and tested. Every little or big device that was placed before him was useless. He focused his rage upon one being; everything else was pointless and not worth his time. 

The guard stood straight and tall, never once turning his attention to a dark-haired being who seemed to float down the stairs. The warden walked behind her, his head lowered in respect. _This is someone important_, thought the guard, _but the question is who? Who is this being that controls even our fearless warrior?_

The banging stopped suddenly and was replaced by a low, dangerous growl. "What did I do to deserve such an honor?" asked the prisoner, his tone indicating sarcasm. "What can little ol' me do for you?"

The being was not amused and the warden ushered the guard off to the side. "You will address her with the respect she deserves! You hear me!" 

"Loud and fucking clear, Warden!"

The warden turned towards her, shaking his head. "He is the most stubborn son of a bitch I've ever met. We've tried everything in the book to get him to crack, but he has met all of our torments with a smile. If he refused to obey you, feel free to use your own power upon him. I'll look the other way."

She nodded. 

"Then I wish you the best of luck. Guard, let her in!"

The shocked look on the guard's face was expected. "But sir, he'll eat her alive! There is no way that I can condone such a action!"

"Let me pass." The petit looking being held a tone that was low and dangerous, the same one the prisoner owned, yet it was different. It sounded more like a royal speaking to a lowly commoner. 

The guard stared at the bright green eyes of the being and heeded to her command. "I don't understand this…but then again, I don't understand what the High Powers are planning on doing when they all come together. Perhaps, it is best to be ignorant." He pulled out the door key, said a quick chant of safety, and opened the door for the feminine being to enter. 

She nodded once and the warden immediately shut it afterwards. "She'll knock three times when she has subdued him, more if and only if she is not getting through to him. I would say open the door if it is more than five. Otherwise stand there and do what you've always been doing. Absolutely nothing." 

…….

She stood before him, unafraid of what he might do to her. She was his first visit in over 2 decades of solitude; quickly, she noticed his hungry eyes and the sinful smirk that grew across his lips. Everything about him reeked of sabotage and betrayal, for it had a very distinct tang; almost like death. It was said in her lessons that deeds of treason killed the heart, which explained the decomposition smell that loomed over the prisoner. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to eliminate the stench, while he stood up and took a few steps towards her. "You're trying to make this difficult." Her voice was low, not sultry, and in it held a tone that made his heart want to stop. "I would suggest that you sit back down and listen to what I have to offer you. It's something you wanted for a very long time." 

His smirk grew bigger. "I figured as much."

Narrowing her eyes, she matched his advances. "Do you dare temp my patience?" Her eyes flashed and crackled with inner lightening. "This is only a short-term release; you will do as I say, you will follow every direction without question, and you will not harbor any thoughts of betrayal. Do you understand?"

"Sure, I get it. But what's in it for me?"

"_Excuse me?_" 

"Deaf are you? Or stupid? I say it slower. _What – is – in – it – for – me?_" He stopped his advances, cautious, but completely remained very calm. "I hate cages and I hate being displayed for your amusement; I want something in return for my services…something that will make me extremely happy. I want what many men want." With that, he reached out and tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "You get what I'm saying?"

Grabbing his hand and twisting it away from his body, she answered. "You get to rest…that's what you get, Malachi. The blood that should have remained on your hands will be yours once again. She has risen them and you shall be the one to cut them down like the wretched weeds that they are. None of them should have returned, even He knows this…but He allowed it to happen. And She…"

Malachi grinned. "…your mother."

She twisted it further. "That bitch is _not my mother_, Malachi. Learn your place when in my presence." She twisted until he was down on knees before continuing on. "She wanted more power…after all, She is the Giver of Death…and Her foe was the Giver of Life; She already destroyed that foe in the first world…all She needs now is to destroy the vessel that Life has chosen in this world. Killing the chosen vessel in this world will allow Her to kill those She chooses…without Life, Death will be unstoppable. And He Who Walks Behind the Rows will be able to raise an army…an unstoppable force of nature…He will kill what God has given and what the Devil wishes to own. Because He is jealous of what the others have: power."

"No one enjoys being left out of the game do they?" asked Malachi as he winced when he felt the pressure grow stronger.

"No one enjoys being forgotten."

…….

Cyrus stared at Micah who continued to ignore him; Fumbles padded over to join his master while Isaac and Admatha discussed ways for disposing of Raven and Kyle for the next battle. The smallest and quietest children found tracks left by Kyle, but they soon vanished. Two of the older children were found dismembered and partially eaten; which only meant that Kyle and Raven were healing rather quickly and preparing for another attack that night. Cyrus however, was not completely healed. His emotional state still needed sometime. Micah was commanded to lead the children in the next wave; Isaac was asked first but declined, stating that he wanted to relax until it was his turn to defend his entitled throne. Cyrus, petting Fumbles, narrowed his eyes when Micah faced him. 

"Is there something I can help you with, Cyrus?" 

Cyrus petted his beloved and loyal companion, whose eyes never left his master's face. "Yes, Micah…there is something you can help me with. Help me understand why He Who Walks Behind the Rows chose you? What is it about you and made Him want to pick you…after all, did you not deny Him at first? Did you not question all that He asked of you? Did you not tremble at your first kill? Did you not weep for those who betrayed Him? Did you not hate yourself for striking against the wicked?"

Micah snickered at Cyrus, but did not answer.

"I should have been the leader…you know that as well as I do. I should have been the one to take that place. He chose you…because He liked you more than I. Beauty over brains I guess." 

"Be not angry at I, Cyrus; He chose you not because you were not worthy enough. You enjoyed blood too much…He wanted worship. Even Malachi paid a price for his own lust. Isaac killed him with his own bare hands. Cross me and I shall do the same." 

"An empty threat to go with an empty body I see," answered Cyrus; Fumbles concurred with a growl. "A soulless coward like you should have remained ashes; after all, even your father knew that you were worthless. Why else would he hate you so much?" He struck a nerve; out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Micah straighten up and grow tense. "Your mother should have known better; giving life to you must have been like giving life to a worm…after all, a worm's only purpose in this life is to eat dirt. That's your calling in life, Micah…to eat dirt."

A resounding smack echoed throughout the hidden hideout. 

…….

He remembered. The only questioned that remained now was whether or not he wanted to keep those memories of her, a being who cared for him longer than even he thought possible. She was no angel and she was no demon; she was just another being who was trying to find herself and the role she fit best in. She was please to find him moving about, breathing but she also needed reassurance. If things went well, if he won and lived, would he still be the same person? Or would he change with power? 

Questioning his and her existence was something his mind did not want to comprehend at this point.

He walked onward, his guide paying him no heed. She was busying pointing every single cow she saw. Scenic routes…who knew that they caused so much trouble?

…….

Admatha turned around quickly, her pale blue eyes fiercely glowing. Though she was slow to anger, the sound of the smack was something that she could not tolerate. It meant disobedience in the ranks, which would ultimately lead to war within; that could jeopardize everything else. Summoning up supernatural winds, her white/blonde hair and formal robes billowed out from behind her. "Do you both dare to test my patience?" she asked, her tone dropping to freezing levels. As she walked towards them, ice formed with each step; Isaac and Ezekiel stepped back and watched from a distance that he deemed safe, while Micah and Cyrus had no choice but to stay put and face whatever wrath was coming their way. Idbash ushered the Silksters towards the farthest corner, leaving the bones of Silver to lay where they were. "DO YOU DARE TO TEST MY PATIENCE!" she roared with all of her might; the baby Silksters hid behind their mother, while the rest of the pack took towards the ceiling. "Do you dare test the power of one who could crush you with just the blink of an eye?" The bones on the ground shattered at the sound of her voice and the room began to quake in fear. 

Cyrus visibly trembled, while Micah simply stayed put. His own dark eyes seemed to flash with inner courage, but he never had to deal with Admatha. 

"Oh young, promising Micah…" began Admatha, her voice holding no sympathy or concern, "…how it pains me to see you disregard my rank. And He had such high hopes for you." And with snake-like quickness, she aimed her words towards Cyrus. "And you, dear boy…you were left for dead in your house of horrors. Is this how you treat your savior?" 

Micah and Cyrus looked once at each other.

"Such jealousy will not be tolerated. This is my word. Obey it. Heed it. Worship it."

Micah looked away as Admatha drew back her own hand. "Praise be to He Who Walks Behind the Rows," she snarled. 

…….

Shade and Josiah walked side by side, hardly speaking a word to each other. There was really nothing to be said, only what was absolutely important. He would show, he would fight, and he would or would not die. And she would be there to help him no matter what. If he died, she would follow. If he lived, she would serve him. That was really all there was to it. 

"We are close by," she said suddenly, taking Josiah off guard. 

"We are?" He scanned what he could, but all that lay in front of him was more and more rows of corn. 

"She has hidden her fortress from prying eyes. And we are being watched." She lowered her head and picked up her pace. 

"By whom?"

"An enemy of hers…" she said in voice barely above a whisper. "…an enemy who is exuding anger…much anger. We should move quickly. Very quickly." 

"What enemy does she have that makes you fearful?" asked Josiah; he placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her briefly. 

"I fear her not. But you should. Therefore, it is in your best interest that we leave now." She picked up her pace and began again. "We will reach the sanctuary soon…stay with me. She will strike…she will strike if you remain unaware of her presence."

"What is she?"

Shade picked up her head, very slightly. "She is of flight."

…….

Kyle awoke from her nap when Raven returned to their hiding place. The abandoned barn on the edge of town was the most obvious place to be, yet was the most over-looked. His remained in his shape, while she changed back into the human she had grown to enjoy. "Josiah is here, Kyle. The leaders are returning to their sacred ground. It's a frightening pilgrimage. Soon Eli will return. And then the demon followers will aid them in their quest. Job, Burt, Vicky, Danny, Lacey, Grace, Margaret, and Allison will feel their pain return to their hearts. They will awaken to a new age. The age of their destruction."

"And our forces are not enough?"

Raven turned and faced him. Her eyes spoke no lies. She never had the ability to. "We could not defeat a simple boy. A boy who was given powers that he could not possibly understand. No, we need more than our strength. We some one else on our side in order to stop this. Someone much more powerful than us."

"Shit."

Raven changed again and took flight, scanning the surrounding area. Hoping to find a weakness, any weakness.

…….

Cyrus hit the wall with a loud crack. He screamed and Fumbles ran to him, barking out worriedly; Idbash cautiously walked over to the injured boy, though she kept her eye on Admatha, wondering if she had it out for her as well. Isaac narrowed his eyes when Micah smiled. Admatha advanced again, driving Idbash back towards the Silksters; Fumbles growled and snapped at the deity, but quickly found himself running towards Idbash. Cyrus was left to cry in pain. 

"Thou shalt not covet, Cyrus…thou shalt not covet."

…….

"Will you cooperate?"

"Yes…if I get to kill him again. Yes."

"Remember, if I like you do, you may reside on earth again. With your old body; it'll be your parole." 

"Of course."

"Then, you are freed. To cause the destruction of…"

…….

Amanaka narrowed her eyes when she noticed Leah making her way towards the chosen place; though she had never had the honor to fight Leah, there had been stories. The wolf part of her was most vicious, a monstrosity when in battle. "There is no possible way that that she could be as strong as they say. There is no possible way. But I could always test her out…yes, a test would be useful. After all, this battle only wants the best." Slipping back into her beast form, she dropped to the ground and made her way back towards Gatlin; she had to meet her own charge.

…….

Sorry about that upload thing. There were no spaces between different scenes when it was uploaded for the initial viewing (twitch, twitch). I hope this works…cause Lord knows, I am tired of fixing it. Enjoy! ****

And for those who worry, Malachi will be playing a very big role in this fic! 

Hugs, Quietthief


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Cyrus took his position outside the hidden place of sacrifice and revival, while Fumbles growled lowly by his side. Scratching the soft fur behind the wolf's head, Cyrus also found himself snarling with anticipation of both the coming battle and the coming war. The term _bloodlust_ could hardly describe the sensation he was feeling; though they were growing stronger with each passing second. Thoughts of _murder_ pulsated in his veins, especially the thought of snapping the neck of the one who tore up his only loyal friend. Thankfully, _Jael_, healed him quickly and his body felt more than capable to stand up to another tumble. Yet, the presence in the air, the tension and rumble before the next strike, distracted him.**

**The blonde/white-haired demon queen lay her hand upon his shoulder, as though her touch would provide him with the comfort that he needed. "Don't be fooled," she whispered in his ear, "because there will be a time when your strongest warrior will fall, never to rise up again. It would serve you well not to hold onto obsessiveness and power, for the newly risen Micah is not the boy he once was. None of them are." She smiled wickedly. "What they have seen in the afterlife touched them more than any blade being driven intgh great lengthens to prove it, he was deeply aware that the task set before him would not be as easy as he had hoped. Though he began the movement and led it with a skilled hand and mind, it frightened to no end that during his death that He had easily selected others to take his place. He Who Walks Behind the Rows chose _others_, the students of the law, to take the highest position and lead new generations down the path of true, untainted righteousness. The religion he began, untainted by sin, was handed to others; to others he felt did not earn such a right.**

**Idbash walked past Isaac on silent feet and felt her presence being drawn back to the little Silksters, who wished to play with another who could have been like them in another life. The adults quickly learned to stay in the furthest corners, where the shadows could act like blankets to cover them from mother and children. The demon easily shifted into her first and truest form in order for her to have quicker movements while within the world of play; the mother kept a close watch on Idbash, but understood that did not have the capability nor the desire to kill her young. As she changed, she felt Isaac's eyes on her also, envious of her abilities to change and mold and survive.**

**Sano retreated back into his shape too and scurried out of the room after trying yet again to prove himself to the one who would never have him. The baby silksters meeped with joy as they interacted with a creature so unlike their own, an animal with a soft coat and a short bark-like call; an animal which could twist and turn with ease and endure a careless nip at the skin. An animal so unlike them, yet still a strong survivor. A hunter with form; a hunter who held vengeance close to her heart; a hunter, who like the rest of the guests, could not afford to fail.**

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**Running his hands along the dirt, Malachi happily breathed in his fifth breath of human air, and muttered to himself "_I'm home._" She stood beside him, utterly bored at of her skull with watching him reminisce about different sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touch. "I'm home and I'm ready to feel _his little neck_ in my hands as I squeeze the life out of him." She sighed as he continued on. "I should have been chosen," he muttered. "Me. It should always have been me. His hands were not tainted with the blood of the unbelievers; mine were. His words spoke of things to come, while my hands made sure that they were carried out. But, now, the power shall be mine." His eyes darkened with glee; she could easily feel his evil energy coursing through out his body.**

**_His strength grows with each breath that he takes; he will consume everything in his path and spill the blood of those who betrayed him. _Davina let her eyes wander across the great rows of corn and let out a small grin when she noticed the old barn. "There," she said softly, pointing to the place where the unbelieving children took shelter. "There is the place where not even the _great_ Isaac can detect you; in there, remains the first guardians of these sacred lands. The Raven and the Black Dog of olden times; you should aid them when the final mortal battle begins and ends. After tonight, the war of ages shall indeed begin."**

**Malachi licked his lips. "_War,_" he growled, "and I shall once again demonstrate why I was chosen to lead the hunts of the interlopers and the children who fell from His grace. Oh yes, they shall remember the name Malachi, and shake with fear."**

**"They shall," she responded, as though it were already a fact. "They shall fear you and tremble when you come up to slash their mortal bodies down...with _your old friend at your side._" Pulling out an object wrapped in plain cloth, Davina handed Malachi the only thing he ever believed in and smiled with sinister delight. As his hand lightly tread over the cloth, his breathing deepened as he felt the pulsing beat of his closest companion. "I trust that you shall survive this ordeal."**

**"With my blade stained in the color of my enemies, I shall never fail."**

**A black winged bird flew overhead and cawed loudly, obviously disturbed by the new intruders invading the lands of Gatlin, Nebraska.**

**Davina spoke after the bird flew back to the barn. "Then to battle you shall go. And your blade shall taste blood once more."**

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**Kyle paced around, anxious as he saw that night was moving in fast. He could sense another new presence and shuddered with the thought that Raven was indeed right - that they were just too outnumbered to even create a small dent. But he knew that they had to try and at least take down a former leader.**

_**CAW! CAW!**_

**Picking up his head, he watched as Raven soared in, though not as gracefully as she usually did. Transforming as quickly as she could, he noticed her wild eyes and an expression of _-joy?_**

**"Raven? What happened? Did you find a weakness? Did you find out that Admatha was wrong about the scheduling and now must wait another 1000 until this takeover plan can work?" He grabbed her shoulders and with as much calmness as he could muster he asked, "Did the calvary arrive?"**

**Raven shook off his hands from her shoulders and smiled broadly. "She's here," she gasped. "She's here and she's brought _him._" The expression onKyle's face told her to explain word-for-word what she meant. "Admatha's daughter is here; she brought Malachi out of Hell." Her eyes shined brightly with the hopes that they had a chance to do some real damage and create enough of a tussle to cause Admatha and He Who Walks Behind the Rows to rethink their ambitions. And if the rumors of Malachi were true, then they really did have God on their side.**

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**"Easy boy. Easy Fumblefoot. You'll get your chance soon enough." Cyrus' eyes flashed with anger as night approached the endless cornfieldsand he grip a new blade; the handle of the new blade was wrapped with leaves blessed by Isaac, who held high hopes that he was a worthy warrior, fighting for the honor of He Who Walks Behind the Rows. "They shall strike, but it is we who will win."**

**The pup by his side growled in the direction of the barn and stamped his paw into the dirt, very anxious to show him master that he would fight with tooth and claw until he struck down and swallowed by the earth itself.**

**And they both watched as the sun's rays began to disappear, leaving the sky tainted in colors of fiery red, purple, blue and finally black. The corn swayed though there was no wind and spoke in hushed dark tones. Cyrus listened and listened well.**

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**Malachi moved through the corn with ease and hardly noticed as the stalks made wild attempts to hold him down; his hunting knife gleam brightly and slashed through the fresh green stalks, which screamed in pain. Nothing could stop him; after a while, nothing wanted too. The rows opened up and allowed him a freer range of movement and a better visual of where he was heading. Until the Voice spoke.**

_**Malachi, my child, why have you forsaken me?**_

**Malachi stopped and slowly turned around. A large form, hidden in the stalks, watched him with eyes blazing like the very fire that scourged his soul when he was sent to Damnation. Though outwardly he did not show it, Malachi was afraid of the Beast that stood before him and twisted the words of old.**

**_Malachi, the blood-tainted, power-hungry child who usurped the rule of Isaac, the very boy who saved your life. The very boy who gave you the strength you needed to free yourself from the rule of the infidels. The anger that runs through you made you such a worthy child in my eyes; unfortunately, your anger and PRIDE...was the key to your downfall. I did indeed want you Malachi; I wanted you to suffer for your stupidness. _He Who Walks Behind the Rows walked through thestalks, hardly disturbing them. His presence was always in the field and Malachi remembered how Isaac described the truest form of the god that all the children blindly worshiped. And here He was. _You suffered when I chose Isaac to be My Voice, yet you forget that I chose you as My Hand. I chose you to strike down those who disobeyed MY Word. And you ignored MY Word when you went against the Keeper of My Word. And once again, you stand before YOUR GOD ready to oppose Him. _His laugh was cruel and cold. _Malachi, my mistake, my flaw; how many times must I strike this lesson into your fragile body? How many wounds will it take to show you that MY WORD IS ALWAYS LAW! _**

**Malachi stood in the rows and watched as the Beast ever so slowly moved towards him. In another time and place, he would have fallen to his knees with fear and awe, but his fear was not as great. Death provided him some dignity. In a eerily calm voice, Malachi answered his executioner. "Your army shall fail you, oh Lord of the Earth; I shall deliver unto you the head of your most loyal servant and with his vacant eyes, oh Lord of the Rows, you shall see yourself for what you really are..." Malachi lowered his eyes and challenge the Beast. "A false idol of no importance. Powerless and _pathetic_."**

**From within the rows of corn, the dark form of He Who Walks Behind the Rows pushed back a few stalks with a clawed hand which dripped with fresh blood. _Powerless,_ he hissed, _I did not kill my family has they slept, Mal-a-chi. You were a lonely little boy, undeserving of the life you were given._ _I gave you the power that you desired. I allowed you to use that power, to destroy those who stood in your way. I ALLOWED you the chance to kill for the pleasure and for the earth itself. What has always been in your heart, I gave the chance to grow. Like the corn. _The clawed hand withdrew from the small opening and the stalks shudder amongst themselves.**

**He Who Walks Behind the Rows vanished back into the fields, not wanting to kill his former pupil just yet. And Malachi knew why.**

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**Raven and Kyle watched with demon eyes as torches were lit and the battle cries of the children grew louder and louder. Micah and Ezekiel each stepped out of the place of hiding and surveyed the land that would one day be ruled by only one. Ezekiel Enright walked over to the battle ready teens and casually blessed those who wished for extra protection; Micah on the other hand, let his eyes rest upon the old barn, and Raven let out a shudder of fear. His heart had changed drastically; no longer was he the boy leader who fulfilled his destiny with He Who Walks Behind the Rows possessing him. Now he was darker, after visiting his truest form in the afterlife; he saw the potential within and his true character embraced it.**

**Kyle spoke both their fears. "Micah's will is much stronger now and I believe Isaac finally understands that this is his last chance to prove himself worthy of leading the generation of evil until the birth of Samuel. This is not going to be an easy war. This is going to kill the earth in its entirety."**

**"Look at those children; do they not understand what death is? Are they so blind as to allow He Who Walks Behind the Rows complete control?" Raven look upon them in amazement and wonder. And with sadness.**

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**Amanaka slipped past Sano with ease, as he was cursing his luck with women and paying no attention at all; in her quiet, stealthy form she could see her charge reading the Dark Bible, his green eyes scanning each and every page. Easily shifting back into her human form, she walked over to him, while she scanned the rest of the place. Jael, back in human form also, slowly turned and gave her dark grin, which she promptly returned with one of her own. She saw the baby Silksters tumble over one another, trying to best each other at wrestling. Isaac continued to keep his eyes on the book and hardly noticed when Amanaka dragged her sharp claw underneath his neck. "First rule of death matches," she said in a hushed tone against his ear, "is always be alert. Danger is lurking around every corner."**

**Isaac, however, hardly budged at the idea that this _thing _from the bowels of hell would really kill him. Mostly as was stated, he could not die without first killing those who fully destroyed his leadership. And they were living somewhere not close to Gatlin. So, he still had some time left; just not as much as he had hoped.**

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**_A/N: AHHHH! COLLEGE ...that is all._


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